iAm
by RedDauntless
Summary: "It doesn't matter what you've done. Who you are comes from your history, sure. Your background, your parents, your relationships...But who you are is much bigger than just that. Maybe you should stop thinking about who you're not, and start asking yourself who you are. I think you might like what you see. I know I do." Description in my profile. *Rated for Violence*
1. iAlways Keep Secrets

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

**Hey Everyone. Thanks for checking out my Fanfic! **

**WARNING: This fanfic is rated for violence and may not be suitable for some readers. **

_Chapter One: iAlways Keep Secrets _

Sam Puckett turned the knob of the door, peaking into the seemingly empty apartment. Perhaps Carly wouldn't notice the bruise on her arm, or the state of her hair. There was a distinct possibility, also, that Carly wouldn't even notice she was late. Sam had been late every week for the past four weeks, and it was beginning to weigh on Carly's mind. Sam could tell. Not that it was entirely her fault. Carly would understand. She slid into the door, adjusting the knit cap she was wearing to cover her ears.

"You're late," a stern voice came from behind the counter. "Rehearsal was supposed to start five minutes ago."

Sam gave her a sheepish smile. "But...I'm less late than usual, right?" she said, trying to lighten the mood. Carly would have none of it.

"It doesn't matter if you're less late than usual! You're still late!" Carly snapped.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I had to..." she quickly thought of a lie. "Brush my cat's teeth."

Carly grimaced. "You don't even brush your own teeth."

Sam sighed. "I said I was sorry. And I'm here now. Can we just start rehearsal?"

"You know," Carly began. "I do a lot to make sure iCarly happens every week. I just wish you would show a little more enthusiasm about the work that we're trying to do here."

"You don't think I'm enthusiastic? I come up with half the stuff we do on the show!"

"Yeah, stuff like 'let's go dive in a dumpster and go hunt for buried treasure!'" Carly said, mocking Sam's lower tone.

Sam scowled. "That wasn't a bad idea."

"Yeah, except it's gross! Not even Gibby would do something like that!"

"Gibby would totally do something like that! And at least I don't suggest things that are illegal anymore!" Sam tried to give a smile. "So I'm getting better?"

"You're walking the line," Carly said bitterly.

"Carly..." Sam said sincerely. She approached her best friend in the most delicate way she could muster. "I'm trying, okay? I...made a spitwad the size of a golfball today in class and only threw it at ten people. That's progress."

"Progress?" Carly shook her head and walked away. "Sam, normal people don't throw their own spit at other human beings!" She crossed her arms. "So where were you?"

"I told you!" Sam lied again. Lying was a world she could thrive in. "I was brushing frothy's teeth! He has gum...cavities."

"Gum cavities?" Carly repeated in disbelief. "I can't believe you."

"What?"

"You blew off iCarly rehearsal for gum cavities?"

"I didn't blow off rehearsal!" Sam contradicted. "I'm here! I came as fast as I could! My mom was being-"

"Oh no. Don't try to pin this on her. This is your fault, Sam. You're late. So you need to start taking responsibility for when you mess up!"

"But-"

"Now go get changed. We have to do the wheel of Karma bit."

"Carly, if you just let me expl-"

"We've already lost time waiting for you to get here! So just put on the dress so I can see that it fits and then you can go eat all my food like you always do and we can get this over with." Carly went back to the kitchen.

"Okay, fine. Whatever."

Sam made her way upstairs, but ran into another familiar face on her way. "Hey, Fredlicks."

The boy, whose real name was Freddie, watched her sternly as she bounded past him. "Hey. Where have you been?"

Sam didn't stop. "I had to brush Frothy's teeth."

She had reached the top of the stairs when she felt Freddie grab her wrist, stopping her. "Why are you wearing a hat? I didn't even think you owned a hat."

Sam inhaled. "I like hats."

"Well, you're inside now, so you can take it off."

"What are you, my babysitter?" Sam complained. "Go nag someone who cares."

"Sam!" He ran in front of her. His tone immediately softened. "I can see it, just take it off."

Sam lowered her hat, further over her ears. "No you can't."

Freddie held out his hand. "Please?"

Sam sighed and peeled off the cap, carefully. She set it in Freddie's hand, moving her hair to the side. There in the corner of her face, was a large purple bruise, just as he had suspected. "There."

"And?"

"I was trying to brush my cat's teeth when he ran under the table, so I chased him under there and when I came up I hit my head," she explained.

Freddie looked at her, unimpressed. "You chased the cat under the table?"

"Yes."

"Then how did you hit the corner?"

Sam exhaled, speaking as though it was obvious. "I _dove _under the table where the corner was but I missed."

"But that was before you went under for the cat."

"Yes."

"So it happened twice. The first time you dove under, the second time you hit your head on the top?"

"Yes. Can you leave so I can change?"

"And it was the _cat_..." Freddie half asked.

"Yeah, the cat," Sam tried one last time. From the look of things, however, Freddie wasn't buying that story. "Or..." Sam gulped. "It could have been my mom."

"Sam!"

"Well, she was mad because I said that I wasn't going to be home tomorrow because I have iCarly and so she got mad and said couldn't go and so I got mad and told her that she needs a freaking social life and so she...threw a chair at the wall."

"Again?"

"But the leg was the only part that hit me so..."

Freddie breathed into his hands, unable to remain as calm as he would like. "Did you tell Carly?"

Sam frowned. "Last time my mom and I fought and involved Carly, her couch ended up in her kitchen and she _still _wanted me to move back home."

"Still," Freddie said. "I really think she'd be less angry if you just told her what was going on instead of making up excuses."

"Hey!" Sam protested. "I could have been brushing frothy's teeth!"

Freddie flattened his eyebrows. "Frothy is rabid. Brushing his teeth would put you at risk for disease."

"Oh..." Sam bit her lip. "So I...shouldn't do that anymore?"

"No!"

"Well, I didn't know!" Sam snapped. "I'm from a poor household! We're not that educated!"

Freddie sighed. "Are you okay?"

Sam stared at him, blankly. "What?"

"Are you okay, Sam?" Freddie repeated, harder. "Ever since you started telling me about all this home business I've been feeling a little...well...like it can't go on anymore!"

Sam growled. "Oh, so you've decided to care about me today." she spat.

She had been noticing this for a while now. Some days their friendship appeared on good terms, other days it was a bomb waiting to explode. Freddie's opinion of Sam was never consistent, that was one of the major issues. One second he could be praising her, the next scolding her for the same action. It changed so often Sam never knew how he really felt about anything. Was his caring the facade? Or was it his hate? It was impossible to tell, especially now that Carly was back in the mix.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." She didn't want to deal with this today. "Just forget it."

Suddenly they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. "Sam!" Carly's voice called up. "What are you doing? You have to go change!" She shook her head disapprovingly, not even noticing Sam's bruise as she passed. "Freddie go downstairs and see if Spencer's ready to move his sculpture to the studio."

Sam followed Carly into the studio. Freddie walked down the stairs, telling Sam with his lips 'tell her'.

Sam inhaled. "So...Carly...I wanted to-"

"Sam I want to-" She turned around, just now noticing the bruise on her forehead. "Oh my god! Did something happen?"

"Yeah, I uh..." She looked into Carly's concerned eyes. Those eyes that loved her so much and would never do anything to hurt her. "I hit my head on the table."

"Oh my god, you poor thing!" She said. "Does it hurt?"

Sam's face flattened. "No, it feels like butterflies," she droned sarcastically.

"I'm going to go get you some ice," Carly said. "You wait here and get changed. Those dining room tables. They're just the worst."

"Yeah..." Sam said. "The worst..."

From that point on, iCarly rehearsal went just as it always did. Sam and Carly improvised, and Freddie mapped out his camera movements. Freddie flirted with Carly, and she in turn ignored him or directly and politely told him to stop.

Carly Shay. It seemed like there was nothing in the world that could phase her, at least in Sam's mind. She lived to serve others, to give them a new life and hope. She gave Sam much more than that, though. Carly was Sam's best friend, her go-to girl, the person Sam wished she could be. Carly was born from a broken family, but even though she didn't have a mother figure, and her father was down in the bottom of the ocean in a submarine, she had life pretty good. Almost too good, in Sam's opinion. How could a girl be that kind and have everything she wanted? Was life really that easily avoided for people like her? Those were the kinds of questions Sam couldn't help but ask herself. She felt guilty for doing so, though.

Carly had everything. She was the host of a popular web show. Sam didn't kid herself anymore. iCarly was Carly's web show, there was no doubt about that. She was just thrilled to be a part of it. It kept her off the streets, hanging with kids that might lead her to spending even more time in prison than she already had. Sam had made the record for the longest time spent out of prison in the family. Melanie was the only exception, but the Pucketts never really counted her in the drawing to begin with, she was such an outlier. But Carly had everything going for her, unlike Sam. That's what made her so great. An A student, an interesting artist of an older brother to give her perspective and a relaxed yet loving environment to grow in. Yes, Carly had everything. Any job she wanted, any material possession...any boy... But Sam was never jealous. How could she be? It wasn't like _she _deserved any of those things, especially when it came to the boy department. Besides, there was only one she wanted, and he undoubtedly was Carly's. First, middle and last. So Sam didn't trouble herself with meaningless nonsense like how much better Carly's life was than hers. Instead, she chose to think of the more important things in life, like what kind of food she wanted to eat out of her refrigerator.

* * *

Sam stepped out of the bus onto the sidewalk. The sky was heavy with grey clouds which loomed overhead, saturated with moisture. She groaned. Soon that moisture would be pelting her freshly curled hair. It wasn't that she minded getting wet, it was that going to bed with wet hair always made it frizzy the next day. The last thing Sam needed was doing the web-show with a head full of cotton ball hair for millions of fans to see. She walked briskly towards the end of the street where her house was.

She clacked up the stairs, one at a time, her high pumps slipping sideways onto the concrete. _Stupid shoes, _she thought angrily. Sam didn't want to actually do the makeover that day, but Carly had insisted. "I want us to look like that chick from the Wheel of Dough!" she had told her. Apparently she didn't trust Sam to do that kind of work herself. The blonde shook it off. That was a bit harsh. Carly was always concerned with appearances. It should have been no surprise that for the bit she wanted to look as swanky as possible. Sam leaned against the doorway, remembering how awkward the whole thing was. Freddie was back to drooling all over Carly, which was an event that never seemed to go away. Sam had come to terms with it now. It didn't work between she and him anyway. They broke up. It was over. He could do what he wanted.

Shaking some of the raindrops out of her hair, she opened the door. She peeled off her shoes, trying not to fall over. The light from the door shone into the hall as the rain began to come down harder. Her foot kicked the door shut behind her as she stumbled into the house. There were boxes upon boxes piled up in the back room. The aroma of day-old pizza permeated from the living room. Sam sighed. _Home sweet home, _she thought facetiously.

"Hey!" she called into the seemly empty house. She hoped no one would call back.

"I'm in the living room!" the brassy voice replied. "The litter box is full."

Sam dropped off her backpack and entered the dark room. A silhouette of a woman sprawled out on the couch stretched across the wall. Sam turned on the light to see her mother, still in her bathrobe with her feet propped up on the arm of the couch.

"We went late again so-" Sam was stopped by the expression on her mother Pam's face. She propelled her feet off the couch and sat up.

"Melanie? Is that you sweetheart?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "No, Mom. It's just me." Her deep tone said it all.

"Oh." Her mother sunk back into the couch. "What are you wearing? You look like the pink fairy vomited all over you," came her biting response.

Sam walked across the hall into the bathroom. Turning on the light, she looked at herself in the mirror. No major damage. "Carly wanted us to look alike," she said brushing her hair down. "You know. For the show."

Pam scoffed. "Well, that figures."

Sam put the brush down. "What?"

Her mom shrugged. "Nothing." She could hear the footsteps coming across the hall to meet her. She didn't have to look at her to know she was right there. "You're just turning into her that's all."

Sam's cheeks flushed. "I am not turning into her."

"Really. Just look at yourself. You spend so much time with Carly I kept thinking: 'Oh hey! She's just gonna turn into that girl one of these days!' And low and behold! It's finally happened."

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh no?" She appeared behind Sam in the mirror. "Look at what you're wearing."

"It's for the show."

"Yeah... the show i_Carly. _You should call your life iCarly because that's all we get around here. Carly Carly Carly!"

Sam turned around to face her mother. "Okay."

"Carly! Carly! Carly! Carly! Carly! Carly! Carly! Carly! Car-"

"Okay! I get it!"

There was a long pause before: "It's kind of sad, Sam."

Sam bit her lip, trying not to say something she'd regret. "What?"

"You think that if you put on a pretty dress and learn how to giggle you're just going to magically turn into her one day. It's just...a bit pathetic."

"I told you. I'm not turning into Carly."

"Then what's with the..." she reached down towards Sam's purse.

Sam moved it away. "Nothing!"

"Oh...okay..." She leaned over and grabbed her daughter's purse.

"Hey!" Sam reached for it, but her mother brought it out of the room.

"What have we got here? Lipgloss..." she announced, lifting it up to the dim light. "Mascara...oh and my favorite..."

"Come on, Mom. Give it back..." Sam said, following her down the hallway.

"Coverup!"

"Mom!"

"Ha! I don't wanna wear dresses anymore Mommy, you said! I wanna wear Daddy's boxer shorts and be a man, you said! And now look at you! Miss Priss walking around my house in pointy shoes and butt-dresses!" she snapped.

"It's not a butt-dress! And it's not even mine!"

"Why the makeup, Sam? You never used to like it before." She lifted the glass lipgloss above her head. "You think it'll make you _pretty_?" SMASH! The bottle fell to the ground, shattering on impact. Sam stood back, avoiding the crash. "Oops."

"Aw come on," she muttered.

"Do you think people will like you?" She threw the mascara against the wall. The container flew open, the black staining the wall like blood.

"Cut it out!" Sam shouted.

"No! This is what you want!" She held out the foundation towards Sam. "This is what you've always wanted."

Sam groaned. "You never had a problem with Melanie wearing makeup. Why is it she can and I can't?"

"Cause it's not about the makeup,Sam," her mom retorted. She waved the foundation bottle around. "That's right. It's about this."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. _That is makeup, _she thought, annoyed. "Foundation?"

"_Coverup._" Sam shook her head, confused as her mom continued to speak. "Oh, I'm a horribly useless human being. _Coverup._" She opened the bottle and painted her face with the liquid inside. Sam's nose flared as she made her way down the hall to the kitchen. Her mother followed, unable to control the laughter that was now consuming her. "Oh look! I am lazy and can't pass any of my classes! _Coverup!"_

"Shut up." Sam rolled her eyes.

"Cover up the filthy house and the rabid cat! Cover up the four arrests and the destructive behavior! The glass on the floor!"

"Just get lost!"

"Oh, but it's so _easy. _Just see a blemish and cover it up! Isn't that why you like playing dress up with Carly? Wouldn't you rather be her than yourself?"

"Yeah!" Sam screamed, whipping around to face her mother. "I would rather be Carly! She doesn't have to live with you!"

Pam grew quiet. Her face eventually formed a scowl. Without hesitation she grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged her down the hall. They arrived back at the bathroom mirror where it all began, mother holding daughter in front of the glass.

"Look. Do you see that?" the woman spat. Sam didn't look up. "I said look!" A hand grabbed a bunch of her hair and pulled her up so she was staring at herself in the mirror. "Who is that?" Sam didn't answer. "Who is that? Is that Carly Shay? Do you see Carly Shay in the mirror?"

"...no."

"No. Who do you see?" No answer. Pam thrust her hand forward, pushing her daughter's forehead into the glass. "Who are you!"

"Sam."

"Sam who?"

Sam stared into her own eyes. "Sam Puckett."

"That's right." Pam released Sam's head allowing her to fall toward the sink. "You are Sam Puckett and I am your mother. This is your house. That is your face. This is your life." She handed her back the foundation bottle. "And no matter how much of this junk you put on, _that _is who you are." With that, she walked out of the tiny bathroom back to her couch. "Now _Sam _can go clean the litter box. It's stinking up the place."

Sam caressed the foundation bottle in her hand, staring at herself in the mirror. All of the sudden, she couldn't stand what she saw. She lifted the bottle over her head and threw it as hard as she could against her reflection, the foundation spreading all over as the glass flew all around her.

"Samantha!" she heard her mother call from the living room.

The girl stormed up the stairs as fast as she could without stepping on the broken glass. She ignored her mother completely as she tried to navigate the stairs.

"Oh..." she heard her mother's voice from downstairs. "You think you're so innocent, blaming me. You know this isn't really about me, Sam!" she shouted. "You know what this is really about!"

Sam ignored her and continued to make her way across the hallway.

"This is about that Benson boy, isn't it?"

Sam didn't stop.

"You're still not over it."

She could hear her mom's words ricocheting through the walls, unavoidable.

"Poor Sam broke up with her boyfriend. Aw. Boo hoo hoo."

Sam grabbed her baseball bat from her room.

"You think you can win him back if you try to be Carly! It makes perfect sense! You can't stand the fact that he's choosing her over you."

Sam slammed her bedroom door shut.

"It's not gonna work, Sam. You already chopped off all your hair to be like her. You're wearing her clothes-" her mom began to laugh. "You haven't even hurt a kid in two weeks. It's like she's brainwashing you."

The baseball bat thudded down the stairs. Each clang hit Sam's ear with a sharp ring.

"You did all that and it doesn't even matter. He wants the genuine article, not some cheap knock-off!"

Sam reached the bottom of the stairs. She dragged the metal bat across the archway into the living room.

"Hey! Maybe if you die your hair brown he'll fall in love with you again! Huh? What do you think?" she howled.

Sam opened the front door.

"Don't forget the litter-"

SLAM.

Finally, there was quiet. Sam listened to the pitter patter of rain falling on her front porch. Her blonde hair fell over her face, slowly dampening from the rain. She wasn't going to cry. There was no point. Everything her mother said was true. She could feel her chest tighten as she inhaled and exhaled. Her hand trembled, trying to keep its grip on the bat. A clash of thunder erupted into the sky, but Sam was un-phased. It didn't matter what the weather was like. She wasn't going back inside.

She walked down the concrete steps, barefooted as she didn't bother to put on shoes before she left. She heard the scrape of the metal bat dragging along the hard surface. Normally, she would swing it over her shoulder or even keep it in a bag, but not tonight. She began to walk through the dark night, allowing the rain to soak through her dress to the skin. Somehow, keeping her hair from frizzing wasn't important anymore.

Whack! The metal from the baseball bat hit the tree trunk. Whack! Whack! Whack! Sam beat it as hard as she could. Swinging the bat, she chipped off some of the bark on impact. It flew by her face, as though she were chiseling a statue out of marble. When she finally got all the frustration out, she collapsed against the tree. Breathing heavily, she looked through the rain towards a familiar clearing. There, sitting in the rain cold and forgotten, was an academy screen TV set. Sam recognized it right away.

She walked over towards the television, dragging the baseball bat behind her. She squatted down so she was level with the screen. It was completely shattered on one side with the wooden frame broken. She poked it with her bat.

"Huh." She lifted the bat over her head, towering over the machine. "Worthless piece of junk."

She swung the bat down as it crashed into the television screen. A large spark flew out of it and jolted Sam backwards. She dropped the bat and collapsed to the ground, hardly able to breathe. What happened? Did the thing actually electrocute her? Impossible. It must have been out there for years now. Sam yanked herself into a raised position. Hesitantly, she reached for her bat, tapping it to make sure there wasn't any residual charge. When the metal seemed safe, she grabbed it and hoisted herself up. Her feet were beginning to swell from the soil beneath her. She checked her cellphone, which was still in her jacket pocket. 11:58. Her mom would be asleep by now.

She dragged the bat behind her, back down the street, through the front door, up the stairs and into her room. She didn't care if she woke anyone up, although she never did. She dropped the bat onto the floor of her room with a thud before closing the door. She couldn't see anything. A flash of lightning illuminated everything inside the space for an instant before dissolving back into darkness. Everything was in silhouette. Sam flopped onto her bed, slipping out of her dress and kicking it onto the floor where it belonged. She crawled under the covers and covered her head. Her mother's words rang in her mind.

_This is who I am, _she thought. _This bed, this hair, my bat...my TV..._

She closed her eyes.

_And nothing else. _


	2. iDream in Black and White

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Two: iDream in Black and White _

The light poured in from the window and trickled over Sam's hair. She had the covers pushed down to her feet, like she usually did, as she spread herself like butter over the mattress. The air felt cleaner that morning, less stuffy. That was always a good sign. She didn't wait for her mom to scream downstairs before she swung her legs over the side of her bed, pulling herself up into a seated position. She stretched her arms up towards the ceiling. Her back popped as she twisted it back and forth. Rays of sunlight danced in her eyes. She rubbed them open. The metal baseball bat stared at her from across the room. Checking her phone, the time read 7:50 am. Sam grumbled to herself as she dug through the rest of her clean clothes. Surprisingly, she found quite a few outfits that didn't have stains. She slipped on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket. She wore one sock with stars, another with checks for good luck. Her converse were nowhere to be found. _Chiz-nips, _she cursed to herself.

Quietly, she snuck out of her room into the hallway. If she was lucky, she could catch the 8:15 bus to school before her mom even woke up. However, when she passed an unbroken mirror in the upstairs bathroom, she realized that it was going to take longer than she thought to get ready. She walked in, thumbing through the follicles of her blonde hair. But when she looked in the mirror, she had to take a double take. The bruise on her forehead had completely healed overnight. _That was fast, _Sam thought, not paying it much mind. This bathroom was clean, but no one ever used it save Melanie when she came to visit. She opened a drawer and took out a brush. It didn't take her long to realize that her hair was unsalvageable. She found a clip and piled as much hair as she could into it. Soon, her face was clean with the exception of a little bit of eyeliner that didn't seem to want to scrub off. _Carly can fix it later..._she told herself. Her eyebrows flattened. She wasn't sure she wanted to see Carly that day. _The show must go on, as the saying goes_, she thought. And it would.

While she was cleaning up, the air became pungent with a foreign smell in the Puckett household. Sam's stomach roared. _Was that..._ she walked quickly to the top of the stairs as the smell got stronger. Quietly, she crept down the wooden stairs, each board creaking as she worked her way to the bottom. Her hand clutched on the railing for support. The smell was coming from the kitchen.

She passed by the living room, and then the bathroom. The house appeared to be cleaned while she was asleep. Did they get robbed? No, of course not, Sam concluded. Who would rob people of their giant boxes of newspapers and trash? Still, something strange was certainly going on. Sam slid the foot with the star sock forward, trying not to make any noise. If she needed to, she could hit the intruder with a chair or tackle him to the ground. The smell grew stronger. She knew that smell anywhere. _Bacon. _

"Good morning," a voice called from the kitchen. Sam froze. She knew that voice.

"Mom?" she asked, skeptically. She approached the room to see the back of her mother's head nodding over a steaming stove. She slouched back, realizing that it wasn't an intruder after all. "Oh. You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep knowing there was a mess downstairs," her mom replied. She turned slightly to the right. "Hand me that plate, would you?"

Sam looked at the counter and back at her mother. The woman was unusually pleasant that morning, almost to make up for the horrible fight the night before. Sam did as she asked and brought her the plate. "You cleaned the house?"

Her mom took the plate. "No, Sam. It was a bunch of Gnomes," she chuckled. The bacon sizzled as she flipped it over. "They come over every night after they finish playing poker with the centaurs."

Sam rolled her eyes. _That seems slightly more plausible, _she thought. She licked her lips. The bacon smell was starting to get to her.

"How many pieces do you want?"

Sam blinked. "Huh?"

"I said how many pieces do you want?" her mom asked again. "I have to go back to the store, so you can't have more than five."

"Five pieces of bacon!" Sam exclaimed. Her mouth was watering at the sound. "You mean...that isn't for you?"

"No, I already ate breakfast."

This was getting weird. Her mom never made food, not even for herself. She especially didn't wake up in the morning just to make breakfast for Sam. "You ate? You cleaned? Who died!" Sam sputtered out in confusion.

Pam spun around, giving her daughter a menacing glare. "Excuse me..." Sam backed away, hitting her back against the table. _Oh great. Here we go. _Her mom lifted the spatula she was using to turn the bacon up to her face, pointing it towards Sam. "What did you say?"

Sam bit her lip. "I just meant..."

"Is it really some great occasion that I clean the house?" she countered, moving towards Sam.

Sam took action. She ran around the table, blocking herself with a chair. "R-remember what the lawyer said," she stammered. "If you hit me all I have to do is call the cops!"

Pam rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Oh please, Sam. When have I ever hit you?"

"I'll go right to officer Carl! I mean it this time!" she shouted. Her body began to tremble. _If she goes for that frying pan there's no way I'll be able to hide the burn, _she thought strategically. _Plus, that would be an awful waste of bacon. _"Just...stay over there!"

Pam looked at her daughter's face. It was wrought with a kind of fear she could only imagine. "Sam..." She slowly approached her. "Are you-"

"Just go back to your bacon..." Sam huffed.

But her mother did the opposite. She set the spatula on the counter and walked around the other side of the table. "Sam..." she said again, concern in her voice. Sam was too much in fight mode to notice. "You don't think I would actually hit you, do you?" Sam relaxed a bit, confused. Her mother took another step forward. "Honey?"

Sam scrunched her eyebrows. "Honey?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Are you feeling okay?" She reached her hand out towards Sam who recoiled from it. But when skin met skin, it was a gentle touch on her cheek. Sam should have run away. She should have screamed. Whoever this woman in her house was, she wasn't her mother. "Did you fall down the stairs again?"

The scene was interrupted by the leaps and bounds of feet rushing down the stairs. "Good morning, Family!" a bright, cheery voice cooed. Before Sam had a chance to process what was happening, a familiar face skipped into the kitchen. "Mother...Sam..." she greeted.

Sam couldn't believe her eyes. "Melanie?"

"Oh! Did you forget she's staying for the weekend?" Pam asked the confused teenager. "It must be a nice surprise."

"Well, it certainly explains a lot," Sam muttered.

Pam walked away from the girls and went back to the bacon on the stove. "Op! I think it's done! Go grab a plate, both of you."

Melanie looked over at Sam and grinned. "How are you?"

"Fine," Sam responded, bluntly.

"Be careful, Hon. Sammy's a bit on edge this morning," her mom called back.

"Oh no! Not another monster dream!" Melanie exclaimed. "I told you, you should read this book I got from my psychology course. It tells you all about your dreams and what they mean! Don't you think that sounds like a good idea?"

"Wonderful." Sam grimaced. She wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't in a dream. Why was Melanie home? She never wanted to come home. It explained why her mother was on such good behavior. However, she seemed legitimately hurt when Sam thought she would hit her. Today was a strange day, indeed. Sam didn't know what to make of it all. She looked at her phone. 8:15. The bus would leave in ten minutes. "Hey, I'm already running late so can I get my bacon to go?" she asked. She needed to get out of the house.

"Running late?" Pam asked, confused. "Your classes don't start until nine. You have enough time to eat breakfast with your family."

_Meow. _A small white cat with brown spots appeared out from under the table. Melanie gasped. "Aww! Now it really is a family breakfast!" she said sweetly, picking up the animal.

"Mel! Don't pick him up!" Sam whispered. "Do you want to get rabies?"

Melanie giggled girlishly. "Rabies? You're so funny, Sam." She lifted the cat up to her face so her nose was touching its nose. The cat opened its mouth and began licking her skin. "You're not disease ridden, are you? No. Of course not. Sam's just being paranoid."

"Okay, fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." Sam exhaled. Sauntering over to the cabinet, she noticed there was a full set of shining white plates. "Did you get new plates just for Melanie?" she asked sarcastically.

"Aw. Are they new?" her twin asked excitedly, much to Sam's annoyance.

Pam shook her head. "No, same plates we've always had."

Sam's head began to feel dizzy. "I..." she began. "I have to go to the bathroom." She left the kitchen and sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Suddenly, she became face to face with her own eyes in the mirror. She felt a lump in her chest. The glass wasn't shattered and there was no indication of a broken frame. Her breath became shallow as she inhaled and exhaled. She couldn't stand it anymore. She let out a blood curdling scream, running as fast as she could out the door.

She ran straight into her mother, who caught her, holding her in her arms. "Sam?" She asked as Sam began to hyperventilate. "Sam. What's wrong?"

Melanie ran in, panting. "Did something happen?"

"I don't know," Pam replied, still holding on. "Sam. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Did you see a spider?" Melanie asked.

"No! I didn't see a spider!" Sam snapped back. "Did you get a new mirror?"

Pam tilted her head. "Did I...what?"

"The mirror! In the bathroom! How did you fix it? Did you get a new one?" There was no answer. Sam grabbed onto her mother as tightly as she could. "I broke that mirror! I shattered it into a million pieces!"

"The mirror in the bathroom?" Pam looked over into the room. "You broke that mirror in there?"

"Yes!"

"Are you okay?"

"Ugh!" Sam pulled away from her family and went to the door. "Last night! Last night I broke this mirror in this bathroom! Don't you remember? You have to remember, Mom!"

Melanie peered inside. "The mirror isn't broken."

"Sam," her mother said. "It wasn't broken this morning either. You must have dreamed you broke it. Is that why you thought I was angry at you? You thought you broke the mirror?"

"But..." Sam couldn't find her voice. She couldn't stop looking at her mother. There was concern on her face, certainly. But there was something else. Something Sam hadn't seen from her mother in a long, long time. "But I did..."

And then there were more footsteps. Heavy footsteps. The clunked down the stairs as though attempting to get away from a fire. "I heard screaming," a deep voice said. "Is everything alright?" It was gruff and low. Male. Sam looked up to see a tall man running into the scene. He was tan, muscular with a head of brown hair that was slicked back by gel. Sam completely stopped breathing.

"Everything's fine," her mother said. "Sam just had a little fright, that's all."

Sam shook her head, unable to peel her eyes off of the man. She remembered his face from pictures tucked away in photo albums her mother never let her see. Fading photographs that were burned to show only portions of his face. She couldn't stop it. Tears began to fill her eyes.

"D-Dad?"

The man pushed past her mother gently. "It's okay, Baby. I'm here. What happened?" His eyes were bright blue, just like in the photos. His hands were strong as they reached out lovingly toward her. "Sam?"

"You're...my dad..."

"Did she hurt herself?" he asked.

Pam shook her head. "I don't know. She thinks she broke the mirror."

"Sam?" he said, looking back at her. "Sweetie...you're okay..." He stroked her arm. "You're okay."

"You..." Sam walked toward him until her face was against his chest. "You came back."

The man chuckled. "Oh, come on. That's not fair. I know I work long hours but saying I never come home..." But Sam wrapped her arms around him, holding on as tightly as she could. Sam's father looked up toward her mother and whispered. "How long has she been like this?"

"Since this morning."

"Do you think we need to call Dr. Reynolds again?" he suggested. "Make sure everything is...functioning?"

"I don't know," Pam said, uneasily. She leaned in closer, whispering. "She thought I was going to hit her."

"She what?"

She nodded. "She was confused that I had cleaned the house and made breakfast and when I told her I didn't like the tone she was using she tried to blockade herself away from me with a chair."

He looked back down. "Sam? Is that true?"

"And," Melanie added. "She thought the plates were new and that the cat had rabies."

"Oh dear." Sam's father pulled her away from him. "Pumpkin..." He looked her in the eye. Sam was in too much of a shock to do anything. "Are you okay? Do you think you might need to stay home from school today?"

Sam shook her head. She needed to get out of there. She knew she did but...just the image of her father made her feel frozen to the floor. "No. I have a test," she lied. Lying was the one thing she always knew how to do.

"You can't make it up?" her mother asked.

"No. I studied really hard for it and..." would her mother buy that she was studying for a test? Well maybe this lady would, but not her mother. "I really want to go."

"I can take her on my way to work," her dad said.

"Thanks, Babe. That means a lot," her mother replied as she kissed her husband on the lips. Sam stared at the scene, speechless. Her dad said goodbye to Melanie, then her mother, and concluded by handing Sam her shoes. She picked up her backpack by the front door, which was still filled with books she swore she sold. Soon, she was sitting in the passenger's seat of her car. It almost looked brand new with how well they kept it up. The paint was fresh, the radio worked and nothing smelled like tobacco smoke. What kind of alternate dimension did she step into? She wasn't sure if it was a dream come true or a nightmare. She supposed she would find out once she finally got to school. _Carly sure isn't going to believe this, _she thought. The engine started to run as they backed out of the driveway.


	3. iBelieve in Second Chances

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Three: iBelieve in Second Chances_

Sam stepped out of the car as though she were in a daze. She had accepted that this was a dream and was waiting for the point when steaks would fall from the sky cooked to perfection for her enjoyment. Sadly, no such thing happened. Everything seemed fairly realistic, except for the fact that everything was wrong.

"I'll have mom pick you up at the usual time," called the man in the car pretending to be Sam's father. "If you feel like you don't want to finish out the day, you can always call. We'd be happy to bring you home."

"Okay, thanks," was all Sam could muster up to say.

"I love you."

Sam stopped for a moment. She couldn't find a way to respond. This was just too strange. She walked through the doors of Ridgeway. At least everything there seemed familiar. Her backpack slung over her back, she decided to walk to her locker. She plopped her backpack on the floor and tried to open her locker. She tried the combination once, nothing happened. _Great. This is just what I need today, _she thought annoyed. After a few more tries, she stopped, secretly wishing she had brought a hammer to school. Watching the hallway begin to fill in, she looked around desperately for a familiar face. Finally, she saw one.

"Gibby!" she called to the boy. He turned around and smiled.

"Hey, Sam."

"Oh thank cheese," Sam said, sighing with relief as she ran to approach her friend. "Dude, you have no idea what happened to me this morning."

"You fell on a hobo!" Gibby guessed, poorly.

Sam rolled her eyes. "No! I woke up this morning and my mom was cooking breakfast!"

Gibby stared blankly at her. "Oh...dear?"

"But it wasn't really my mom. I mean it couldn't have been. And Melanie was there and this beefy man who looked just like..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. "But this lady touched my hair and made me food and...ugh! Do you see what I mean?"

Gibby tilted his head. "Uh..."

Sam grabbed him by the shoulders. "My house is being overrun by Puckett impostors!"

"Sam," Gibby finally said. "I say this because I love you and I care about you..." He placed his hands on her shoulders this time. "You're insane."

"I'm not insane! My dad is back! My sister is here! My mom is...nice...something's not right!" Sam shouted. She grabbed Gibby by the arm and dragged him over to her locker.

"Ow! When did you get so strong?" he murmured.

"I wanna know what's going on!" she snapped. "Did someone sneak into my house and replace my mom with a robot? Was it Freddie?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gibby said, definitively. Sam narrowed her gaze, giving him the Puckett stare. "I swear!" he said again. "I always thought your mom was cool."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Cool? She drove her car into the school building after she had cataract surgery."

Gibby laughed. "When did she do that?"

"Like a few years ago. Where have you been?"

"I guess I must have blocked it from my memory." Gibby's watch began to beep. "Sorry, Sam. I gotta run. I promised Rodney I would take pictures for him."

"Why?" Sam complained.

Gibby shrugged. "Cause he said I could keep this hat." He pulled a giant light-up hat out of his backpack and put it on his head. It flashed red and yellow lights all around.

"Alright, fine," Sam said, letting him go. _At least Gibby hasn't changed, _she thought with relief. She went back to trying to open her locker, which failed once again.

"I'm gonna dismantle you..." she whispered angrily at the lock.

"Attack!" came a battle cry from off in the distance. Sam turned around. Before she knew what was happening, her face became covered with silly string. A smaller freshman boy held it, cackling as he ran off. Sam scraped the goop off of her face, charging after the boy.

"Hey!" Sam yelled, her voice carrying down the hall. The boy didn't stop. Sam clenched her fists and caught up to him, turning him around to face her. "Gimmie the can, Kid." The boy tried to run away but Sam picked him up by his collar to drag him back.

"Ah! Help!" he squirmed.

"Give me the can!" The boy handed Sam the can of silly string. She looked at it and laughed. "Heh. Silly string. Amateur, but still entertaining." She put the nozzle of the can to the boy's face. "That aside..." her eyes narrowed. "You just chose the wrong target, buddy." She shook the can, watching the boy's face fill with dread. "Do you think I like having my face covered with silly string? You think I spent all my time this morning trying to look good so you could screw it up?" her voice was calm, but menacing. "Rule number one, Kid. Don't screw with me." She flipped the boy over and squirted the silly string down his pants. She crushed the can in her hand and handed it back to the boy, shaking her head. He swallowed hard before sprinting up the stairs. "Tell your friends!" she called back with a satisfied grin.

Dusting off her hands, she walked back to her locker to try one last time to open it. Perhaps the world wasn't as different as she thought. Still, she didn't understand why everyone was now looking at her with fear. Didn't they already know it was bad news to mess with a Puckett? Wendy held her books close to her as she passed by.

"Oh, hey Wen-" She didn't stop. Sam rolled her eyes. _Okay, fine. Whatever, _she thought. She was beginning to wonder where Carly was. It was already almost nine and she wasn't at school yet. She decided to take out her phone and text her. As she dug through her pockets trying to locate her phone, a familiar rush of blue passed by the lockers. Even though Sam could only see through her peripheral vision, she knew who it was straight away.

"Freddie!" she called. He stopped as soon as he heard her voice. He looked exactly the same, which was a alleviation to Sam. Same stupid one-shoulder backpack, same spiked up hair, same dorky polo shirt. Sam never thought she would be so happy to see that dumb blue polo shirt again.

"Oh." He said, backtracking. "There you are." He rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. Smiling, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips before passing by. Sam felt her cheeks flush, her heart began beating faster and faster. Her mind went blank. She couldn't move. All she could do was have her eyes follow him as he stared back into his phone as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Um...hello?"

"Hang on..." he announced as he stared into his phone. "Just let me do this one...aha!" He exclaimed gleefully. His eyes squinted as he showed Sam a huge smile, presenting the screen of his phone to her. "Level sixty! ¡Que Buenísimo!"

Sam tried to snap out of her daze. "What game is that?"

"Cake Cruncher," he replied, putting the phone back in his pocket. "Gibby says if I get to a higher level than him he'll wear a pink tuxedo to the dance."

"What level's he on?"

"Four hundred and thirty nine."

Sam's mouth fell open. "Holy Blintz."

"I know. God, it would be so worth it, though!" Freddie slipped off his backpack. "Oh! I have to show you something. I know you don't care and I totally respect that. But I'm excited, so I'm gonna show you anyway!" He reached into his backpack and pulled out a catalogue. "Ta da!" Sam stared at him unamused. "It's the costume my Mom's gonna make for the Galaxy Wars convention."

Sam faked a smile. "Oh...that's so interesting..." she droned, sardonically.

Freddie fake laughed in response. "Shut up. I'm not making you go." He stuffed the catalogue back in his backpack and hoisted it over his shoulder. "You just have to listen to me fanboy about it once and then we'll never talk about it again, okay?"

"You're such a nub," Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"I know," he said. His head tilted to the side as he smiled. "But I'm your nub."

Sam's smile began to fade, a pain creeping into her chest. "You...are?"

Freddie laughed in a puzzled manor. "Well, yeah. Of course. Crazy woman."

He leaned in again, touching his lips to the bottom of hers. This kiss lingered on for a few seconds. Sam could feel her mind racing. All that time they lost, all of those moments she could have made together but didn't, disappeared as though they had never existed. He pulled away and pushed some hair out of her face. Sam stared at him, her eyes filled with both longing and disbelief.

"There." He said. "Now do you belie-" His words were stopped as Sam grabbed him by the collar of his polo shirt, smacking her lips against his. With each kiss, she pulled herself closer to him. Her hands moved from his collar to his neck, and from his neck to the back of his hair. His hands rested themselves on her waist.

She pulled away for a moment, looking into his eyes. "I missed you," she said breathlessly.

"I can tell." Sam felt her lips drawn to him again, as though making up for every second. Freddie laughed as he tried to pull away. "Sam..." he said, as she kissed him over and over again. "Okay...okay!" He blushed moving away from her. "Calm down. You're acting like we're about to die in a fiery explosion of death."

Sam felt her cheeks turn pink as she removed herself from his body. "Sorry." She couldn't stop looking at him.

"It's fine. I just don't want to get in trouble."

"Yeah, like I've ever been concerned about that," Sam teased. She let the tension pass before she continued. "So...you...and I...we're...together..."

Freddie scrunched his eyebrows together, tucking his lower lip under his upper. "No, I hate you. Be gone from my sight!" he joked.

"Just making sure," Sam replied, half to herself. "But-"

The moment was interrupted by a loud scream coming from outside. Sam turned around to see the commotion. In walked Ms. Briggs, her face ripe red. "Alright!" she shouted. The students began to scatter. "Who did it? I know one of you did it!" She spun on her heels to face a sophomore girl. "Was it you?" The girl ran the other direction, far away from the angry woman. "I want an explanation!"

Principal Franklin entered the scene, briskly. "Francine, what are you yelling about?"

Ms. Briggs scowled. "One of these little pine nuts broke into my house last night and spray painted my car!"

Franklin pouted, confused. "Your honda?"

"Yes!" she hissed. "And when I find the person responsible..."

"But," Franklin contradicted. "I saw your car this morning. It seemed perfectly fine."

Briggs' eyes narrowed. "That's because they sprayed it with glow in the dark spray! It's just fine during the day, but at night? It's a moving neon vegas sign!"

Franklin tried not to chuckle. "Oh. I see."

"And that's not all!" she shouted again. She reached into her purse. "I found _this _on my windshield." She handed Principal Franklin the item in her pocket. It was a playing card, a joker with two faces. "It's himagain."

"So it seems," he stated.

"Well! Aren't you going to do something about it?" she complained.

Franklin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Francine. I can't punish any students without any official evidence to convict them."

"Then just punish them all!"

"I can't do that. The Twin Joker is just one student out of hundreds. It wouldn't be fair. But don't worry. We'll find out who did this. I"m sure of it." He began to walk away, towards his office.

"But wait! Ted! What about my car!" she called back, to no avail. Having been defeated, she stormed off the other way, staring down students as they parted like the red sea to avoid her gaze. Franklin walked past a very amused Sam and Freddie.

"Morning Sam, Freddie."

"Morning," Freddie said, the grin on his face unmissable.

Sam felt her entire body tense with excitement. She grabbed Freddie by the arm, practically leaping into the air. "Dude! Can you believe somebody actually spray painted Ms. Briggs' car?"

Freddie smirked. "I know. What kind of devious mastermind would come up with such a thing?" His voice raised in pitch as his smirk turned into a full on smile.

Sam examined his face. "No." Freddie shrugged. "_You_ painted Briggs' car?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam laughed, unable to keep in her enthusiasm. "Why?"

Freddie looked at her with a perplexed expression. "What do you mean, why? It was your idea."

Sam's smile finally began to soften. "My idea?"

Freddie inhaled, as Sam tensed up once more. "Okay, what's up?"

"What...n-nothing's...up..." Sam tried to say. Her breath was beginning to become shallow. What was wrong with her? This whole world made her head foggy. She couldn't lie like she normally could. It was almost supernatural.

Freddie crossed his arms. "First you look surprised when I kiss you, then you practically chew my face off like we haven't seen each other in weeks, then you ask me if we're together and now you can't remember spray painting Ms. Briggs' car?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Are you going through a phase? Do you need some fried chicken?"

"You have fried chicken?" Sam exclaimed. With all the commotion, she had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seriously.

Sam sighed. "Okay. I don't exactly know what's going on." she tried to explain. "Last night I came home and my mom was being...well, herself, and so I left to go beat stuff up with my bat."

"...uh huh..."

"So I'm swingin' and I find the old TV that we bludgeoned like _years _ago. So I was all, well great I'll just hit that. Except it was raining outside and when I hit it the thing shocked me-"

"You got electrocuted?" Freddie asked, concerned.

"Kinda."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. But..." she looked around, unsure of what to say. She couldn't tell him the truth, could she? "I'm having trouble...processing..."

"You think you might have amnesia?"

Sam stopped. Amnesia? The world she fell into would never come true in a million years. It wasn't likely she just 'forgot' half of her life. However, if she told him the truth, he would just think she was a loon. "Maybe."

Freddie bit his lip. "Aw man. That's awful."

"So, uh..." Sam scratched the back of her neck. "You don't mind...filling me in on what's been going on around here?"

"Yeah, totally. Totally." He took a step away from her. "I'm so sorry. I must have come off as a major creeper. Do you..." He placed his arms at his side, as though he were stiff as a board. "Remember me? Like at all?"

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Benson, your mug has been engrained into my head since the first time I saw it."

"Oh, good."

"And anyway," Sam continued. "It's not so much the people I don't remember it's...everything around them."

"I get it. So it's like...you remember me, but you don't remember I'm your boyfriend."

"S-sorta?" Sam tried to hide the churning of her stomach. The word _boyfriend _seemed so foreign to her now.

"Alright, selective amnesia. That makes sense."

"Sure." If it got her this far, she would roll with it.

"Then you probably want to see this," he said, reaching into his pack and pulling out his laptop. On screen was an image of Ms. Briggs' garage. The woman pulled in, her honda looking fairly normal.

"You rigged her house?"

Freddie laughed. "Just the garage. I only had time to set up one camera, but it got pretty good coverage so I'm happy with it."

"Nice work, Freddison."

"You wanted to get back at Briggs for humiliating Gibby in class. You suggested spray paint, but I thought that might be too dangerous. So we decided on glow and the dark spray paint. That way she could only really see it at night. Psychological and physical. The best kind of prank."

"And you did the whole car?"

"Everything but the windows and the lights. It's even less noticeable that way."

Sam smiled. "I always knew you were an evil genius."

"Well, there's a reason why it's a double joker," he pulled out one of the cards and handed it to Sam. "But I doubt Briggs or Howard would ever make the connection."

"So..." Sam leaned further in. "You and me. We're like, famous?"

"In a sense." Ms. Briggs began to leave the garage on the monitor. "Oh! She's about to leave." The light in the garage suddenly turned off, revealing a glowing yellow car. The teacher nearly fell over when she saw it and began screaming.

Sam chuckled as she rested her head on Freddie's shoulder. "I like this," she said, partially to herself. "I like this a lot." Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw Briggs coming from around the corner. "Briggs!" she whispered as Freddie shut the laptop quickly, putting it back in his backpack. Sam went back to her locker, focusing on putting in the combination. Ms. Briggs walked by in a huff, barely acknowledging their existence. As soon as the coast was clear, both Freddie and Sam were no longer able to hold in their laughter.

"And that," Freddie said leaning against the lockers. "Is how it is done."

Sam tried to open her locker, failing as usual. "Ugh! Where's a hammer when you need one?"

"Why do you need a hammer?"

"Cause!" Sam tried to pry at the locker "I can't get my stupid locker open!"

Freddie stared at her. "Sam."

"What?" she spat, annoyed.

"That's not your locker."

Sam stepped away. The look on her face said it all. "Yes it is." She looked at the locker. "This has always been my locker."

Freddie shook his head as he grabbed her hand. "Come on. I think you're going to like this." Sam followed, curiously. She had stopped asking questions. Wherever she was, she was happy to be there.

Freddie led Sam around the corner and down a hallway adjacent to the one they were originally in. She always passed that hall to get to the locker room for gym class, so she was familiar with the area. She couldn't help but feel her blood rush from the sensation of Freddie's hand in hers. It was different than before, gentle and loving. She couldn't stand it, but she didn't want it to stop either. She sighed. All that time she thought it was over. Them, everything they had together, washed away in the current. There was just the facade now, as though their time had never come. But here it was back. Everything was back and Sam didn't know what to do.

Freddie stopped in front of a large wall next to a window. Sam's eyes bulged. The locker before them was huge, twice the size of a regular locker. She looked at Freddie, who had a large goofy grin on his face. Her eyes went back to the locker, shocked.

"Locker 239..." she whispered, unable to hide her paralyzed tone.

"You remember."

"Wait," she turned back to him. "We still have locker 239."

He smiled. "Uh huh."

"My mom didn't drive through the wall and destroy it?" Sam half stated, half asked.

Freddie laughed. "N-no I don't believe that ever happened." He walked over to the locker, putting in the combination. "Check this out," he said, opening it. Inside, there was a microwave oven, shelves for books and a mini-fridge.

Sam's mouth began to water. "Whoa! You have a whole kitchen in there! Why didn't I think of that?"

Freddie shrugged. "I don't know. You're always hungry during the day. I figured this would be easier than constantly purchasing food out of the snack machine." He grinned. "And look!" he opened a small compartment at the bottom of the locker. Inside, were bunches of small pink cakes wrapped up in plastic wraps.

"Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed. _Fat cakes! _She couldn't take it. She dove for the morsels, unwrapping one with her teeth before devouring it. "Aww yeah...oh man..." she said, orgasmically. She felt the sugar dissolve on her tongue. "That's the stuff..." She collapsed on the floor, her hair sprawling out like petals. "Mmm. I love fat cakes."

Freddie looked at her, amused. "Me too."

Sam sat up, swallowing the rest of her snack. "You do?"

"Yeah. Well," Freddie thought for a minute, leaning on the locker with one foot propped against it. "I never used to like them because they were too sweet and fatty. For me, anyway. But they kind of saved my life so, you know, I can't help but love them."

Sam stood up, stuffing the wrapper in her pocket. She would lick the sugar off the bag later. "Fat cakes are the world's saving grace..." she finally said.

Freddie moved closer. "Can't argue with a girl with pink on her lips."

Sam brought her finger to the side of her face, scraping off the fat cake residue. She looked at it and lifted her eyebrows. "Leftovers." She licked the gunk off of her finger and gave a satisfied smile. Freddie shook his head. "What?"

"You're loony."

Sam scoffed. "I'm passionate."

"Passionately loony..." He brushed back more of Sam's hair, looking at her intently. His stare cut through her as all of Sam's memories washed up back into view.

"Are you gonna kiss me again?" she asked, bluntly.

He recoiled slightly. "Not if you don't want me to."

"That depends..." she smirked. "Do you like the taste of fat cakes?"

He leaned in closer, allowing Sam to wrap her arms around his neck. "I'm getting used to it."

She flashed a smile as his lips met hers once more. This was a dream. A fantastic dream that could only exist within the construct of Sam's mind. Perhaps, she thought, that was why she was able to accept it so easily. It was the kind of dream she never wanted to wake up from. The kind where the second it disappeared, the memory of it would be nothing but a nightmare.

Freddie suddenly pulled away, his body stiff. "Oh no."

"What?" Sam asked, turning around.

"My mom."

Sam groaned. "She's here? Now?" Maybe it was already a nightmare.

Freddie wheezed, panicking. He grabbed Sam by the arm and pulled her over towards the locker, out of view of the window. "Listen, you have to go."

"What? No way!" She smiled. "I wanna see what mommy has to bring her wittle boy today-"

"Not funny, Puckett!" he snapped. "If she sees you, that's it."

"I can handle your mother," Sam jeered.

"I know but..." he bit his lip. "Please just go to class? I don't want to have to take another cootie bath."

Sam snickered. "Cootie bath?"

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" he begged. "Please?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"Thank you."

Sam walked as fast as she could down the other hallway, duking behind students. Mrs. Benson marched onto the scene with the ferocity of a thousand troupes headed to battle. The stern look on her face was redder than the dye in her hair. When she turned the corner into the hall where locker 239 was, Sam followed curiously.

Mrs. Benson approached her son, her arms crossed and her eyebrows furrowed. Freddie shut his locker and looked at his mother. "Sup?"

"Freddie, you forgot your prescription." She handed him a small white bag. She leaned in closer. "For your-"

"I know what it's for," Freddie said bluntly, taking the bag and putting it in his backpack.

Mrs. Benson looked at his hair and sighed. "Oh, Freddie. Did you even brush your hair this morning?" She pulled a brush out of her purse and began brushing through Freddie's hair.

"Mom! It's fine! Mom! Stop it!" he whispered trying to move away. "It looks fine."

"It looks like someone ruffled it with a balloon!' she retorted. Freddie gave in and let his mother finish brushing his hair. After it was over, she smiled contently. "There. Nice and smooth."

"Thanks. I'm gonna go, so-"

"Freddie," she stopped him. "We need to have a discussion," Mrs. Benson stated.

Freddie groaned. "Can't we do it later?"

"I made a few...arrangements."

Freddie examined his mother's expression. Sam tried to hide her smile. This was gonna be good. "Arrangements? What do you mean by arrangements?"

"Well," Mrs. Benson began. "I was at my Bridge club..."

"I'm not 'entertaining' any more birthday parties."

Mrs. Benson shook her head. "No, no. Nothing like that." She sighed. "I was talking to Gertrude and she says that Molly says that Leslie says that her daughter Jane just broke up with her-"

"No."

"Let me finish!" Mrs. Benson pleaded.

"I'm not going on another blind date."

"But Gertrude said that she would tell Molly to tell Leslie-"

"Ugh," Freddie began to walk away. "I'm late for class. Can we please talk about this some other time?"

"All I said was to tell her you were available!"

Freddie spun around. "Why?"

"Because you are!"

"No! I'm not!" Freddie shouted. "I'm dating S-"

"Don't you start with me!" Mrs. Benson snapped. "Do you know how long it took for a girl to even look at you?" Freddie rolled his eyes. "This may finally be your chance to meet someone nice."

"Sam is nice!"

"Ha!"

"If you just took the chance to get to know her..."

Mrs. Benson paced about the hall. "Oh, I know enough. You're going to throw away your future all for that...that...bulldozer!"

"Mom!"

"I'm not going to sit here and wait for her to run you over," she fumed. "You are to stay away from that girl."

"You're being completely unreasonable!"

"You're going out with Janet." She stated.

"No, I'm not."

"It's all arranged."

Freddie shook his head. "You said you just told her I was available!"

"Well, maybe I thought you would be interested!" she screamed back. "Once you thought there was someone else out there who could love you!"

"Do you really think I'm that unlovable?" Freddie spat. Sam watched from a distance as Freddie's voice started to crack. There was a long silence as tension filled the air. A similar pain in her heart came rushing back, a pain from that word. Unlovable. "Whatever." He began to walk away again.

Mrs. Benson walked after him. Sam ducked further behind the lockers so she wouldn't be seen. "Freddie! Please! I already made arrangements for tomorrow evening!"

"Cancel them!"

"And tell Leslie what?"

"That I have a previous engagement!"

"What could you possibly be doing?"

He spun around. "Um, the dance?"

Freddie's mother's face fell. "But school dances are so dangerous, Freddie!" she pleaded. "You could trip or fall on a puddle of punch and it's so dark you can't see anything."

"I don't care. I'm going."

"And if I say no?"

"It doesn't matter what you say."

Mrs. Benson bit her lip. "Don't talk to me that way. I am your mother and you will listen to me. You're going out with Janet tomorrow."

Freddie stared at her, not moving. "No."

"Fredward!"

"I am going to the dance with my girlfriend tomorrow. End of discussion."

"But Freddie!"

"End of discussion!"

With that, he held tightly to his backpack and walked out of the hall. "Now I really am late for class," he muttered. He paraded past Sam, not even noticing she was there he was so upset. His mother came trailing behind, calling after him, begging him to reconsider. Sam smiled, content with the outcome. Freddie's mother was always a freak of nature. Sam never let it get to her, not even when she and Freddie were dating. He stood up for her then like he stood up for her now.

Sam heard the final bell and sat up. She was going to be late for class. She shook her head. _Late for class? Since when do I care if I'm late for class? _She sighed. Maybe Carly was starting to engrain into her. She looked around. Carly. Where the heck was she? Sam stood up and began walking to her classroom, only to realize that in this dream, she had no idea where she was supposed to go. Everything else had changed, maybe her classes had too. She went to the main hallway to see if Principal Franklin knew. On her way there, she passed by the Honor Roll posting. She wondered if Carly was still number 10 on the board. However, when she approached the paper, she didn't see Carly's name. What she did see was much more shocking.

**6. Sam Puckett- Honor Roll - 4.0**

Sam slapped herself in the head_. _She stuck out her tongue, felt her forehead, pinched herself, but nothing happened. She looked back at her name. It was really there. She was on the list. Her stomach began to churn. What was this place? Was it really just a dream she couldn't wake herself up from or had life really changed completely overnight? _Okay Dorothy..._she thought. _Go grab your mutt and get your pigtails back to Kansas._

She stared at her name in utter bewilderment.

_Cause you're sure over the rainbow now. _


	4. iOnly Tell Lies

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon**

_Chapter Three: iOnly Tell Lies_

Sam stood nervously outside of the wooden door, listening to the muffled sounds of the lecture. A piece of paper was crumpled up in her hand. She was still trying to get over the fact that her world had completely changed overnight. When she walked into Principal Franklin's office to ask about her schedule, she was shocked to discover that all of her classes were different. Sam bit her lip, opening the door to the room. It was the first class of the day and not one she was looking forward to. The door made a loud creek as she stepped through. The entire classroom grew silent, all eyes glued to her.

"Miss Puckett," the teacher at the front of the room said. "So nice of you to join us this morning." He was a tall, slender man with glasses and wearing a button up shirt. Sam didn't recognize him as a teacher she had in the past, although he did seem vaguely familiar to her. Perhaps she had seen him walking around the school at some point. He certainly didn't act like a new teacher.

Sam shut the door behind her as she stared down the class. "Listen," she whispered to the man. "I..."

"If there's something you need to talk about, we can talk about it after," he said sternly. "Now, please take your seat so we can resume class."

Sam rolled her eyes and scanned the room for a seat. She noticed a boy excitedly point to the chair next to him. That was never a good sign, Sam thought, but at least maybe he could give her a clue as to what was happening. She moved through the students and snuck into the chair.

"What were you doing?" the boy asked her, as though they had spoken before.

Sam gave him a hard glare. "None of your business, Freakazoid," she hissed.

The lecture continued, droning on for what seemed like ages. Sam took out a notepad and began to doodle in it. She always fancied herself a good artist. It was the one thing she knew for a fact she did better than Carly that didn't directly cause others pain. She used to draw all of the time when she was bored, mainly of ideas for iCarly or ways to torment Freddie. She drew pictures of him being eaten by a Tiger, dressed as a woman, screaming at a toaster, whatever she was thinking of at the time. It helped to have a protagonist to her little comics. Today, though, her subject was Mrs. Benson as a large Manticore. It wasn't the most original idea she had, but the image of Freddie's mom as as a fire-breathing lion with scaly feet just made sense to her. Sam chuckled to herself, adding a speech bubble.

"I'm sorry, is there something funny?" came a stern voice. Sam didn't look up. The boy next to her poked her to get out of her daze.

"What?" Her head shot up.

"You were laughing. You find centrifugal force funny, Miss Puckett?"

Sam put down her notebook. "Centrifiwha..."

The teacher lowered his eyes so he was peering through his glasses at the end of his nose. "Well, since I have your attention, perhaps you would like to solve the formula on the board."

Sam looked at the white board, which resembled only meaningless scribbles to her. "Uh...I would _love _to do..." She clenched her teeth. "...that. But I can't."

The teacher stared at her, dumbfounded. "And why not?"

"Well," she began, kicking back in her seat. "I electrocuted myself last night and now I have amnesia. So I don't remember anything about chemistry."

"This is physics."

"I don't remember physics." The class began to chuckle.

"Is that a joke?" he asked sternly.

Sam sighed, half mumbling. "I kinda wish it was. You can ask Principal Franklin. I was just in his office. He had to give me my class schedule and everything." The man looked skeptically. "Believe me. For once in my life I am telling the truth."

"Alright. Kent, you answer the problem."

A red-headed boy in the back of the room stood up. "Aww! No fair!"

"Heh..." Sam smiled, going back to her cartoon. "Have fun, Kent." She was about to give Mrs. Benson a long, wet tongue to match her slimy attitude when a voice called whispered out to her.

"Psst. Sam..."

Sam rolled her eyes and ignored it.

"Hey...Puckett..." a tiny paper frog flew and hit her in the face. She slammed down her notebook again and looked at the thrower. It was the boy from earlier, the one who wanted her to sit next to him.

"Hey!"

"Is that true?" he asked once he got her attention. "Did you really shock yourself last night?"

"Yes, now shut your face," she whispered back.

"So...you don't remember me?"

Sam rolled her eyes and leaned in closer. "Do you think that if I remembered you I would keep looking at you like this?" She made a face at him, sticking out her tongue.

"Wow...that's so weird."

Sam went back to her drawing. "You're telling me."

The boy held out his hand. "I'm Curtis."

"I don't care," Sam replied not even bothering to look up. Curtis simply laughed.

"Maybe you will by the end of the day."

"Not likely."

"Mr. Mendel!" The teacher gave a harsh look towards Curtis. "How about you focus on this formula rather than Ms. Puckett's notebook. As I recall, it's not going to do you much good."

Curtis stopped talking to Sam for the rest of the lecture. By the time class got out, Sam had completed her drawing. It felt good to get out all of her frustrations of the day. Now she could go to class and try to piece together what was happening. She would have never taken physics, it was a class for people who studied how to drop things! At least, that's what she believed. It seemed like a waste of time and energy to figure out how the world works. It's there, and we live in it. Might as well accept it. That was Sam's philosophy. She was about half way down the hall to her next class when she heard a voice call back to her.

"Sam! Wait up!"

Curtis came prancing behind her like a lost puppy. "Dude! What is your problem?"

"We have class together," he said confidently. He showed her his schedule. "See? Shakespeare. Maybe I could..."

"Ugh," Sam growled. Old language? Why was she such a prude now? "No thanks." She continued to walk away but Curtis pursued her.

"Oh come on. If you can't remember anything, like you say, the least you can do is let me help you get to your classes."

"_Classes?_" Sam said in shock.

"Yep. Four."

"And..." Sam swallowed hard. "You are in my classes?"

"Everything but wood shop."

_Wood shop. _Sam sighed with relief. At least she got to take something cool. "Alright, fine. But keep your distance."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The rest of the day went as expected. Sam mainly drew the entire time as Curtis explained that she had "amnesia". All of the teachers bought the story completely, which was good news for Sam. It was nice not having to cover up and keep track of her stories for once. She wasn't lying as far as they were concerned. This didn't come with the same amount of effort as lying did. In this story there was at least some truth. She truly didn't remember where she was or how she got there. However, she did have memories, memories that didn't coincide with the world she was currently living in.

She skated through her classes in a fog. She was grateful when lunch finally pulled around. She had left before eating and one fat cake was not enough to sustain her. Curtis found it necessary to follow her down the hall. She found out he was a senior and was taking similar classes she was because she apparently skipped ninth grade. By the time the lunch bell rang, she was beginning to get very sick of him hanging on her.

"So then you took the placement exam and got the highest grade in the class..." the boy explained as Sam made her way to her locker. He sure knew a lot of useless trivia about her, none of it actually true in Sam's memory. "And there was also the time you-"

Sam couldn't take it anymore. She spun around and grabbed Curtis by the arm, twisting it as hard as she could without spraining it. The boy became paralyzed with pain for a few seconds before Sam let go. She then flattened her shirt and began to walk again. However, Curtis still was right behind. Sam wanted to dig her brain out with a spoon. She looked around for Carly, but there was no sign of her. She pulled out her phone and searched her call history.

Nothing.

Sam looked at her phone, confused. She checked her contacts, but there was nothing there either. Did she delete her number out of anger that night? She didn't remember doing anything like that. Maybe it was a prank by Freddie or Gibby. Sam grimaced. What kind of lame prank would be resetting cellphone contacts?

Curtis appeared in front of her. "I like strong women."

Sam put down her phone. "When are you gonna get lost?"

"When you agree to go to the dance with me."

Sam crinkled her nose. "Gross."

"Aw, come on, Sam. You can't tell me you don't want to go," he pleaded. "And since your boyfriend isn't going..."

"Who told you that?"

"I overheard his mom say he has a previous engagement," Curtis said, moving closer. "And I really would hate for you to miss out."

"Right well..." Sam resisted the urge to punch him in the face. If this is what Carly had to deal with all of the time from being popular, maybe her lack of romantic history was more of an advantage. "Freddie said he was going to try and get around it." She really had no idea what she was talking about. _When in doubt, always lie. _

Curtis sighed. "Look, Sam. I didn't want to say anything, but I really think you're selling yourself short here. I mean Freddie is so-"

"Freddie is so what?" a deep voice injected into the scene. Curtis turned around to see Freddie standing there, arms crossed. Sam smirked, moving from between the two boys.

"Oops," she said mockingly.

"Hey, Benson," Curtis said with a smile. "Don't mind us. We're just standing here...talking...about _chemistry_.You mind?"

Freddie shrugged. "Not really."

"I like your shirt by the way."

"Thank you."

"Did your mommy iron it for you or did you do it by yourself like a big boy?" Curtis derided.

Freddie grinned sarcastically. "Cute."

"I hear you aren't going to the dance. Too bad, you'll be missed."

"Okay bye!" Sam said, gesturing for Curtis to leave. He didn't budge. This guy was harder to get rid of than Ruben.

"I am, actually," Freddie said.

"Really? You don't have knitting that night?"

Freddie's face turned red. "I don't knit..." His body grew tense. "I crochet and I don't see anything wrong with having a knowledge of basic stitching."

"Heh..." Curtis chuckled, ruffling Freddie's hair. "Yeah, he's a keeper alright." He started to walk away, laughing. "See ya." Sam stuck her tongue out at him as he disappeared into the bustling hallway.

She turned to Freddie, unable to keep a straight face. "Crochet?"

"It passes the time!" Freddie said defensively. His cheeks were burning red.

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, so do video games."

Freddie went to open the locker, grumbling to himself. "Now I feel bad about myself." She shoved his books inside. "Stupid Curtis."

Sam went to make a joke, but stopped herself as soon as she saw how serious he was. She wasn't sure if it was her growing out of it or if her feelings for him made her more compassionate. Suddenly, she knew what to do. "Wanna see what I did in school today?" Freddie looked up. "It'll make you feel better."

"What?"

Sam pulled out her notebook and opened it to the page of her drawing. She handed it to him, her face twisted in a wild grin.

Freddie looked at it, unimpressed. "You drew a picture of my mom as the devil."

"Actually, she's a manticore."

"Aren't they those creatures that poison their victims and then devour them whole?"

Sam nodded. "Uh huh!"

"And you thought this would make me feel better?" He looked at her, then back at the picture. He stared at it for a few seconds before breaking into a small smile. "Okay, it is pretty good."

"I know, right? I think I captured her likeness."

"Totally," he confirmed, chuckling. "Especially, the fangs." Sam took back her notebook, looking at her work, proudly. He smiled taking her hand. "Hey," he said, pulling her into him. "I love you."

Sam's face fell as he pushed back her hair. She felt her entire body go numb as he kissed her again. His words cycled through her head like a marry-go-round. _I love you..._she heard over and over again. She had heard those words come from his lips many times, typically to talk about how much he loved Carly. He threw around the word love as though it was akin to the word taco. For her, he had only said them once and even then it was to her alone, never to anyone else. Sam fortunately didn't have to think about it too long before her stomach started doing the talking for her.

Freddie pulled away and looked down. "I think it's time for lunch."

Sam was brought out of her thoughts by the immediacy of her rumbling tummy. "Oh man! I forgot! I didn't eat breakfast cause I was so weirded out by-" she stopped herself and thought of something else to say. "By my mom cause she was screaming at the cat. So, I left without eating."

Freddie frowned. "I've never seen you skip a meal."

"Well!" Sam complained. "Today was really weird!" That part wasn't a lie.

Freddie rolled his eyes, grinning as he began to walk away from the locker. "Come on. Let's go get you food." Sam trailed behind, her stomach leading her.

* * *

All throughout lunch, Sam waited for someone to ask where Carly was, or mention her. Sam herself was about to bring up the subject, but every time the opportunity came, the words didn't seem to want to be said. The truth was, Sam had no idea what was happening or why anything was the way it was, but she was enjoying herself. Gibby came and joined them at the table, babbling about some new way to prevent toe fungus. It was different without Carly there, for sure, but Sam felt a strange peace from not having her around. After their fight the night before, she really wasn't sure how she was going to react when she saw her the next day. There was a fear that if Carly's name came up, she would become the topic of conversation. However, no such thing happened. As guilty as Sam felt, she secretly enjoyed not having to share her friends for once. Still, the question of _where's Carly? _lingered in her mind. She decided to wait until after school got out to finally ask.

Freddie and Gibby walked out of the lunch hall, Sam falling a bit behind having stuffed herself completely full. She noticed Gibby stop in the middle of the archway.

"Uh oh," he whispered.

Sam tried to peek through. "What?"

"Aw man," Freddie quietly complained. "Why now?"

"What?" Sam asked again, now in line with the two boys. "What's going on?"

"You want me to-" Gibby asked.

Freddie shook his head. "Let's just get out of here." He gripped Sam's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Why? What's-" Sam asked as Freddie pulled her across the hall. "Hey! Dude! What's your deal?" She complained as he continued to walk quickly. Gibby trailed closely behind. "I mean it, Fredward. You have two seconds to-"

"Freddie!" a voice called out. The boy stopped, busted. The clacking of heels was heard on the tile floor of the hallway. "Where have you been? I need to talk to you."

Sam turned around, nearly falling over with relief and nervousness. "Carly!" she exclaimed, looking at her best friend. "There you are!" She let go of Freddie's hand and approached her.

Carly Shay looked at the blonde and smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah, hi." She moved past her, ending up right in front of Freddie. "Freddie, where were you? I sent you a text like fifteen minutes ago saying to meet by the water fountain."

"I didn't get a chance to look at my phone. Sorry," he said flatly. "It's lunch hour so you could have just went to the cafeteria..." he practically mumbled.

Carly gave him a hard look, "Um...ew."

Gibby scratched his neck. "I'll see you guys later," he said, sprinting off in the other direction. Sam pursed her lips, utterly confused.

"What's with him?" she asked Freddie. He subtly shook his head, as indication not to talk about it.

Carly handed Freddie a red folder. "Anyway, I need you to come over earlier to set up for the show tonight. I also think we should make a few changes to the script, so you should be there for that too." She walked closer to him, twisting her hair behind her ear. "And you could always stay later, if you need to, you know, run something else..."

Freddie glowered. "I'm on a tight schedule."

Sam felt her cheeks begin to burn. Not only was Carly ignoring her, but she was flirting...with Freddie! _Gross._ "Oh my gosh Carly!" She called, trying to get her attention and hiding her annoyance. "You're never going to believe what happened last-"

Carly turned around. "Excuse me. We're having a conversation." She turned back to Freddie. "Come by around sixish. Don't forget to wear the tux this time. The girls like it when you get classy."

Sam chuckled. "Freddie's about as classy as pig wrestler."

Freddie gave her a confused stare. "A pig wrestler?"

Sam shrugged. Carly turned around, giving her a glare. When Sam simply grinned in response she turned back to Freddie. She began to reach for Freddie's collar, adjusting it. "You can come over early so I can help you fix your hair."

"Please don't touch me," he asked, monotonically.

Sam recoiled, astonished. "Wh-whoa..." she said trying to move between them. She gently made a shooing gesture to Carly. "Ahem!" Carly looked at her and let go of his collar. Sam grabbed Carly by the arm and pulled her aside.

"Ow!"

"What the fudge do you think you are doing?" Sam snapped. "Why are you being all friendly with Freddie all of the sudden?"

Carly tossed her hair. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've been looking for you all day! I was actually worried something might have happened to you! You know I was electrocuted by a TV last night. Do you care? Should I even bother trying to tell you? Or or you just gonna hit on Freddie some more?"

"Sam," Freddie came behind her.

"I know you're not exactly thrilled that we're together, cause you weren't exactly supportive last time, but..." Sam sighed. "Okay, I'm not sure how or why this happened but right now I'm really happy that it did. So can't you just be happy for me and try to be there? Please? Just once, can you-"

"Listen," Carly stopped her from talking. "I don't know what you're talking about so you need to take your crazy out of my face." She looked at Freddie. "Make it five."

"Five?" Freddie complained.

"Five," Carly demanded. She turned around and began to walk away. She called back with a tone like sugar. "So nice to talk to you, Sandy."

"Wait!" Sam called after her. "You can't just-" she froze. "Sandy?"

"It's Sam!" Freddie shouted at her back.

"Haha!" she giggled. "It matters." Her black hair bounced as she opened the doors and left the building. Sam turned back to Freddie shocked and confused.

"What the _heck _was that?" she asked.

"Carly Shay," he grumbled.

Sam straightened, her shoulders lowered as far as they could. She had never heard Freddie say Carly's name with such distain. "Whoa. Why the sudden hostility?"

"Don't worry about it," he finally said with a grimace. "She's just a spoiled brat who thinks she's better than everyone else because she goes to some prep school."

"Prep school?"

"Yeah, _Briarwood._" Freddie mocked the name.

"Carly goes to Briarwood?" Sam exclaimed. "But...what...since when?"

Freddie rolled his eyes. "Sam, trust me. You don't want to go to Briarwood. They only want students there who follow the rules and are incredibly dull."

"Carly isn't dull!" Sam said defensively. "She's...well she's not particularly interesting! But she isn't dull!"

"You're quick to say that, having only just met her."

"What are you talking about?" Sam said, flinging her arms around. "I've known Carly for years! I'm her-" She stopped suddenly, realizing that she wasn't at home anymore. "I mean...we went to elementary school together, remember?"

Freddie sighed. "The dark days."

"How did Carly get into Briarwood? She like...win a scholarship or something?"

"Nah, she kind of has this web series," Freddie started to explain. Sam's ears perked up. _Web series? _"So she's sorta famous. The show gets about one hundred thousand viewers a week. Which isn't bad mind you, just not all that impressive on an internet basis. iCarly generates an average income of ten dollars per thousand viewers. So on average we're looking at a rate of a thousand dollars a week total."

Sam's eyes bulged. "iCarly!"

"Right. But see the problem is that-"

"The show is..." Sam sputtered. "_iCarly?_"

"Yeah. iCarly. You know? i- internet. Carly- _her," _Freddie said.

Sam couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Carly has a web show called iCarly?"

"Don't make fun. I came up with that name."

"Right, I know but..." Sam shook her head. This couldn't be happening. "Wait. Are you still iCarly's technical producer?"

Freddie chuckled. "_Technical Producer?_" he repeated. "That sounds so official."

Sam groaned. "You the tech weenie or what?"

"Yeah I run the lights, manage the set and film the show, but there isn't much editing because most of it is done live. I also keep track of the finances, make sure the advertising companies are happy, advertise the show itself, strike the set after the show..."

"And..." Sam bit her tongue. "I'm not part of this at all?"

"No way."

"Why not?"

"Because you like having a life," he teased. "And Carly wouldn't let you be on the team anyway." He smirked. "You're too pretty. You would outshine her. Plus, she probably wouldn't pay you. She only pays me because she needs me, otherwise everything would fall apart."

"You don't do it for free?" Sam asked.

"You're insane if you think I'm gonna put up with that thing for six hours a week and not get paid for it."

"How much?"

"Depends. Usually a hundred."

"A hundred bucks?" Sam shouted surprised. "A week?"

"A month."

"What?" Freddie started walking his way back to the locker as Sam followed. "But you said that iCarly makes like a thousand bucks a week."

"Well, sure. But then there's taxes, revenue, stage maintenance and that's not too bad. Carly gets two thousand a month, Missy gets five hundred, and the rest is saved in the company vault for emergencies. Carly said I would get paid more if I showed my face on camera more often, but..." He stopped, arriving at the locker. "I don't really want to."

Sam was perplexed. None of this made any sense. iCarly couldn't have required more than a hundred bucks to keep it going, minus Freddie's equipment. And Freddie not wanting to be on camera? Before that day, he would have jumped at every opportunity to show his face on the show. Sure, he wasn't very funny when he tried to improvise for himself, but he was always enthusiastic. What was wrong with him?

"But it's cool," Freddie said. "Since I'm the one who draws out the business contracts with the advertising companies I get a good portion of their contribution. Enough to keep up to date with the technology changes at least."

"Hey Freddie..." Sam asked, afraid of the answer she might receive. "What's Carly's show...like?"

"Trust me, Babe. It's not something you want to be a part of." He kissed her on the cheek, grabbed his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder. "I'll see you after school." Sam watched as he left to get back to class on time. She snarled. Web show? Carly had a web show in this universe too? And what was worse, Sam wasn't a part of it. She grabbed another fat cake from the drawer, biting the wrapper with her teeth and spitting it onto the ground. She snatched a bite of the cake and slammed the locker shut. It was just as she feared. This dream come true was turning into a nightmare.


	5. iPlay Games

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Five: iPlay Games_

Sam clicked her heels together as she waited for Freddie to move up the stairs. She didn't understand why, but she was sweating nervously. _Why here? _she thought. They could have gone anywhere after school. The Groovie Smoothie, Gallini's pie shop, anywhere would have been better than there. She had even texted to tell her mom that she was going out with Freddie and didn't need to be picked up. In the past, Sam would have insisted they go back. She hated having people at her house, even if it was just for a little while to pick her up.

"Sorry," Freddie said, coming up behind her. "My mom was on the phone."

Sam turned to him, putting her hand on his chest. "Hey Frednuts, I'm really hungry. You wanna go somewhere that's...not here."

Freddie cocked an eyebrow. "Why? Because Melanie's here?"

"No beca- You know about Melanie?"

"Of course. We've met tons of times. I even went on a date with her once."

Sam brushed it off. Why was she even surprised? "Okay, yeah. I don't want to deal with Melanie, okay? So can we please just go?"

"I don't really have time to go anywhere. We only have an hour before I have to be at Carly's."

"But-"

He placed his hands on her shoulder. "Stop. Worrying." He got the spare key from under the mat and opened the door.

"Uh...Freddie..." Sam said. She bit her lip as she went in with him. "Look, my mom doesn't know about the whole...me being electrocuted thing yet. So she thinks I'm just-"

"Sam? Are you home?" a voice called from the kitchen. _She's always in the kitchen now, _Sam thought, incredulously.

"Please don't tell her!" She begged. "I don't wanna worry her," she lied through her teeth.

"Alright fine. But you owe me."

It wasn't long before Pam peeked her head out from behind the wall. "There's my little trouble maker and her partner in crime." She chortled at her joke.

"Hey Pam," Freddie said with a wave. Sam had to take a double take. Freddie and her mom were on a first name basis?

"If I knew you guys were just coming back here, I would have picked you up," Pam said. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to walk, that's all," Sam lied again. "We were gonna go somewhere, but Freddly has to do iCarly in an hour."

"That early, huh? Well, I made cookies, if you guys are hungry."

Freddie perked up, curiously. "Are they glutton free with artificial sweetener?" he asked.

Pam grinned. "No, they are not."

"I will be back!" he said, bounding towards the kitchen excitedly.

Sam rolled her eyes playfully, although food of any kind was always a plus in her mind. She and Pam followed him through the living room, the scent of fresh baked cookies wafted in the air. Melanie sat at the table, dipping her cookie in a glass of milk.

"Look who it is!" Freddie said, entering the room. "Melanie Puckett looking as ravishing as ever."

Melanie jumped up, excitedly. "Freddie!" She ran up to him, giving him a delicate hug.

"How's my second favorite Puckett twin doing?"

Melanie pouted playfully. "Second favorite?"

"Yeah, I have to say that because, well, girlfriend." He winked. "Contractional obligations and all that."

"You're sweet," She said with a giggle. "I'm doing well. I had a long weekend so I thought I would come up and visit the family." She pulled him in close. "Watch out for Sam. She's been a bit cuckoo today."

"You have no idea," he whispered.

"Should I leave the room and just let you two make out?" Sam announced, crossing her arms. Melanie giggled again and let go of Freddie, her cheeks a rosy red.

Freddie gave his girlfriend a knowing smirk. "Please. You know you're my favorite." He went over to her and held her hands. Sam rolled her eyes, her cheeks now the ones turning pink. He rested his forehead on hers.

"Oh, get a room, you two!" Pam jeered. "Three years and you're still acting like you just had your first date."

"I dunno," Sam replied. "Everything feels brand new to me."

"It's never boring, that's for sure," Freddie added. He felt a buzz from his phone and pulled it out of his pocket. The time read 4:15. "Hey, can I use your room for a sec? I need to check on something."

"Sure."

"Thanks!" Freddie said, making his out the door.

"Oh Freddie!" Pam called, running after him. "Hold on, I want to ask you about something." The two disappeared from sight, leaving Sam and Melanie alone.

Melanie giggled girlishly as she started to exit the kitchen. "He's so cute," she said, stopping right by Sam. "You better watch your back, Sam. I might just steal him from you."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "If you try, you're going to end up in the gutter." Melanie simply grinned at this and made her way to the living room. Sam shook her head. _Three years? _They had made it work that long in this universe? They didn't even survive a month back home. She walked over to the kitchen table, taking as many cookies as she could before heading upstairs. _Three years. _She couldn't get over it. _And he doesn't even hate me yet._

* * *

"What's that?" Sam asked, peering over Freddie's shoulder. His eyes were glued to his laptop computer screen.

"It's a contract," Freddie explained. "For iCarly."

"Are you demanding more money?"

"No," he said. "I just want to make sure we have a stable agreement." Sam rested her head on his shoulder, reading the contract. Freddie set the laptop down next to her so she could finish reading. "You mind if I change my shirt?"

"Do whatever you want," Sam said. She looked over the words, reading them aloud. "Employer is not required to adhere to requests such as live appearances on camera, external outings that aren't part of company schedule and the removal of articles of clothing..." Sam looked up. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Freddie said, unbuttoning his shirt. "That I don't have to do everything that Carly says just because it's her show."

Sam looked back down, reading over the contract again. "You think Carly's going to make you take off your clothes?"

"It's happened before."

"Why?"

"Because..." Freddie elucidated. "The majority of our viewers are...young women. And it's very lucrative to have a guy on the show to kind of..." he groaned. "You know what I mean."

Sam smirked. "You're a boy toy."

"Not anymore," he demanded. "Hence the contract."

"Oh, come on Fredward," Sam joked, shutting the laptop. "You really think you're that ho-" She felt her jaw hang open as Freddie's blue polo slipped off of his shoulders. His muscles curved around the small of his back, making his shoulder blades pronounced. He reached his hand over his shoulder to scratch the back of his neck.

"I'm that what?" he asked, honestly curious. His muscles flexed as he turned back around. _That's not fair, _Sam thought.

"Just that..." She tried to find the words to say. "You know, maybe you should rethink your contract."

Freddie lifted an eyebrow, his lips curving into a tiny smirk. "Oh really?"

"You should go on air just like that," she continued. "Every night. Forever."

"You'd be cool with me never wearing a shirt on iCarly?" he asked, sarcastically.

"I'd be cool if you never wore a shirt again," she replied bluntly.

Freddie just laughed. "I don't think so."

"Why?" she moaned.

He walked over to her. "This kind of objectification is exactly the kind of thing I'm trying to avoid." He rested his thumb under Sam's chin, pressing upwards and closing her jaw which she then realized was still loose. "And besides, I don't feel comfortable giving girls the wrong idea." Sam couldn't stop staring at his chest. How long had it been like that? Was it always like that and she just never bothered to see it? She was grateful Carly never noticed, or else she'd be screwed. Freddie grabbed Sam's pillow and shoved it in her face. "Stop staring!"

"I'm not staring!"

"You were so staring!"

Sam covered her eyes. "No! See? I'm not looking!"

Freddie rolled his eyes and took her hands away from her eyes. "Sam...I don't care if you look." Sam's eyes caught his and hovered there for a moment.

"You know what? I changed my mind," she said standing up. "That contract is a great idea. It'll keep you from getting too big for your..." She threaded her fingers around his belt loops and pulled him into her. "Pants."

"We wouldn't want that." He moved his hands to her waste as she unlaced her fingers and moved them up to his neck.

"Luckily, you have me to help shut up that ego."

"I think you're just bad at sharing," Freddie proposed.

Sam nodded in agreement. "Okay, you caught me. I am _really _bad at sharing." The boy smiled, his eyes sparkling with a kind of joy that Sam hadn't seen in a long time. His lips brushed hers, lightly warming them before they dove in. They kissed until Sam could feel Freddie's pants buzzing again. He groaned, looking at the message.

"Ugh," he complained. It was as though his whole body had collapsed.

"What?"

"It's Carly," he said with an unpleasant drone. "She's having some kind of problem with the new software I set up." He ran to his backpack, yanking out a white button-up shirt. He fiddled with the buttons, trying to get them all done in a hurry. "I gotta go. I'll just do the rest when I get there."

"You're leaving now?" Sam asked as Freddie bolted over to her bed, snatching his laptop.

"I'm sorry." He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll make it up to you, I promise!" He looked around frantically. "Did I have a jacket? Aw man! She better not have crashed the system again!" He bit his lip. "You think I have time to print this out before...no. Probably not." He slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I'll text you!" he called as he sprinted out the door.

Sam waited a few seconds before deciding to run after him. "Yo! Fredchester! Hold on!" She finally caught up to him half way down the stairs. "Slow your butt down a sec!"

He stopped running. "What?"

Sam breathed in, her chest rising to its full capacity. "I'm coming with you."

Freddie let out a hard laugh. "No."

"Come on!"

"Why would you want to come see Carly Shay's stupid web show?"

Sam pouted. "It's not stupid, and I think it would be...interesting."

"I'm gonna clear up your suspicions..." Freddie said. "It is not."

Sam didn't let up. "But what if she doesn't agree to the contract? Don't you want some muscle behind you? In case-"

"Sam, it's not a good idea."

"I don't care," she proclaimed. "I'm going and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"But..." Freddie began to protest, but the stern, determined look on Sam's face told him this was one battle he wasn't going to win. "Ugh. Fine."

"Yes!" Sam shouted, excitedly. She bounded down the stairs and ran to get her backpack.

Freddie sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

Sam tapped her foot along the wall, waiting outside of Freddie's apartment. She couldn't stop staring across the hall. Carly Shay, the girl who saved her from a life of crime and destitution, her best friend in the whole world, couldn't even remember her name. Could Briarwood really change a person that much? Sam wasn't convinced. _No, _she thought. _Carly is still Carly. She has to be. _Someone that good natured, kind, selfless, loyal...she rubbed her nose. She couldn't become a heartless priss like Missy. Could she? Sam crossed her arms. Even if she did change, nothing was to say that she couldn't change back, right?

Freddie's door opened as he walked out wearing a sleek, black tux. He grumbled to himself, trying to fix his bow-tie. "Stupid...why won't you just..." He threw his arms in the air in surrender. "Chuta!"

Sam chuckled. "Having issues?"

"I can't get this stupid thing on!"

She made her way over to him, fiddling with the tie herself. "Hm..." She thought, pursing her lips. "I say you scrap the tie." She slid it out from behind his neck. "Unbutton that one." Freddie rolled his eyes playfully as Sam loosened the top button of his tuxedo. She paused for a moment. "Maybe the next one too..." He let her take out the second, but she still wasn't convinced. "Okay one more-" But this time, he put his hands up to stop her, lowering them down before she got too excited.

"Sam..."

The girl beamed. "You're right. Two's enough."

"Thank you."

"Now all you need to do is put a fish on your head, and the look will be complete!" Sam said, quite seriously.

"Why would I wear a fish on my head?"

She swayed back and forth on her toes, placing her hands behind her back. "Cause it'd be funny."

Freddie shook his head, unable to hide his smile. "You're so weird."

She looked down at her stomach. "And hungry."

"Oh!" he suddenly remembered. "Wait here..." Freddie ran back into his apartment and came out in seconds with a plastic tub and a spoon. He handed it to Sam. "Here you go."

"What is it?"

"Mashed Potatoes."

Sam looked at them skeptically. "_Real _mashed potatoes?"

"Yes. _Real _mashed potatoes. My aunt Jennifer was over a last weekend and made it for us. My mom won't let me eat them because she thinks I'm allergic to starch. I put some together for you but I left them at home."

"Aww," Sam smiled. "My stomach thanks you."

"Right," Freddie said, making his way towards Carly's door. "So you can eat your mashed potatoes and sit on the couch...or something..."

"Dude," Sam said. "I'll be fine." She grabbed his ears lightly and pulled his face in towards hers. "Stop. Worrying," she said in the tone he used earlier. With a wink she pounded on the door.

In an instant, the wooden door flung open as a hand yanked Freddie inside. "I'm freaking out, Freddie! Freaking. Out!" Carly said as she paced around the apartment.

"Okay, calm down. What happened?" He asked.

"I was trying to download a video to splashface and all of the sudden the screen just went black and scary, so I asked Spencer to come in to help but he couldn't stop it from beeping and Terrine just called and she can't make it on the show anymore and I don't know what to- what is she doing here?" Carly said in an automatic tonal shift.

Sam waved at her with her spoon, grinning from ear to ear. "Hey Carls!" she greeted.

"Sam wanted to come watch," he said nonchalantly.

"Nice place," She said, looking around the apartment. It looked almost the same, except there was something different about it. She couldn't quite place what it was. "I like the window."

"Freddie," Carly said, sternly pulling him to the side. "We have a strict no audience policy."

"That has never been a rule, Carly," he contradicted. "You never established any official-"

"I got it!" Sam shouted, not realizing that she caught the attention of the other two. "No sculptures! That's what's different!"

Carly turned to her, puzzled. "Why would you expect there to be sculptures in my apartment?"

Sam mentally slapped herself. _This isn't your world, Sam! You have to be more subtle than that! _"Isn't your brother an artist?"

Carly let out an exasperated sigh. "Spencer's sculptures are in the basement and in his room. Where they belong."

"Why?" Sam asked, confused. "They're super cool and you have plenty of room."

"Because when I have people over I don't want them to think that I'm being babysat by a twenty seven year old child, alright?" she snapped. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I'm just so stressed." She rested her head on Freddie's shoulder, who groaned in response.

Sam sneered. "Okay, I get it. You're stressed. Go..." she made a shooing gesture. "Wipe your stress juice somewhere else."

Carly removed her head from Freddie's shoulder. "Will you come up and look at the computer?" she begged.

"Sure," he replied. "Sam, we're going upstairs."

He looked around for his girlfriend, only to find she had already made her way into the kitchen. "Cool!" she called back. "Hey Carly, can I use your microwave?"

"Um...sure?"

"Kay thanks!"

Carly turned back to Freddie, her annoyance shining through her smile. "So...you're dating her?"

Freddie looked back at Sam, hammering her mashed potatoes with the spoon. He smiled. "Yep."

Carly's face flattened. "Really?"

He raised his eyebrows proudly. "Really."

When Carly and Freddie were upstairs, Sam looked over towards the fridge. She peeked around the corner, making sure no one was looking. Gleefully, she slid in front of the giant refrigerator, opening it.

"Hello, Baby..." she said, sticking her head inside. "Did you miss Mama?"

Everything seemed to be there. The normal groceries, Carly's cans of Peppy cola, it was almost as though nothing had changed at all. Sam smiled. There were some things in life she could always count on, she supposed.

"What are you doing?" a voice behind her called. She slowly turned around to see Carly standing there, staring at her with a befuddled expression.

"I was just..." Sam thought of a lie as she shut the fridge door. "Comparing refrigerators. Yeah, yours is so much nicer than mine...a lot...bigger." She walked up to Carly, starting to put her hand on her shoulder. "Refrigerators are a passion of mine."

Carly gave her a fake smile. "Great." She moved away. "Don't touch me."

Sam let her arm swing down to her side, embarrassed. "Kay."

* * *

Freddie looked closely at the computer, running the program over and over again. "Everything seems to be working."

Carly shook her head. "That is so strange. I swear it was broken a few minutes ago."

"Well, I doubt it was ever broken, Carly," Freddie explained. "I think the hard drive just got tired and it decided to crash in order to reboot itself. It happens all the time when you don't turn off your computer."

She nodded, pretending to lean in close to the computer screen. She rested her hand on Freddie's arm, rubbing it gently. "Your muscles are so large."

Freddie stopped, awkwardly taking in the compliment. "Uh, thanks." He shook it off. "Anyway it looks like the software is functioning fine so-"

"How did they get so large?" she asked, flirtatiously.

Freddie sighed. "I fence," he stated. "The program will also run easier if you shut down other applications so if you..." he stopped, noticing Carly rub her hands down his arm. "If you..." he tried again. He inhaled, trying not to lose his calm. "Carly."

"Yes?"

"Remember when we had that talk about personal space?"

"Oh, Freddie," she said, clutching his arm. "You don't have to worry about that with me." She slid her hand down and grabbed onto his tightly. "I completely respect you."

"Great," he responded, shrugging her off. "Because I have a few requests I'd like to make."

"Requests?"

"Here," he said. He pulled out a piece of paper from under the cart where his computer sat. "I drew up a contract so that-"

"Contract?" Carly laughed. "Freddie, you don't need a contract."

"No, I do need a contract," he insisted. "I don't really feel comfortable with the way I'm being used on the show."

"What do you mean? The fans love you!"

"Right but..."

"Freddie," she looked at him with a determined stare. "If this is about what happened last week-"

"Yeah! Kinda!" he snapped.

"I didn't know that would happen! Freddie, believe me. I never want you to feel uncomfortable doing anything on the show."

Freddie nodded. "Good. Then I'm not taking off my shirt anymore."

Carly gasped. "Why?!"

"Because! I don't like being used...that way."

"Do you know how many more viewers we've had since you started being on the show? Huh?" Carly asked forcibly. "A lot more!"

"I'll still be on the show, Carly. I just won't go out there and flaunt for a bunch of teenage girls. I already have a girlfriend!"

Carly frowned. "You mean fridge girl?"

"Look," he said. "I like Sam. A lot. And I don't think it's fair of you to-"

The door to the iCarly studio opened as Sam waltzed inside. "What goes on, people?" she sang.

"Where were you?" Freddie asked, elated that she was there to relieve the tension. "Does it really take that long to heat up mashed potatoes?"

"Uh...yeah. You have to take it out every few seconds and mash it around so it stays mushy. I mean, I guess I could have just heated it up all at once, but then it would have just been one big potato thing. Which is cool, but not nearly as fun." She grinned. "What were you guys doing?"

"We were just about to start the show," Carly said. "Freddie, where is your bow-tie?"

Sam dug her spoon into the mashed potatoes. "I took it off."

Carly fumed. "Why?"

Sam grinned. "Cause now he doesn't look like a gameshow host." She walked over to the corner of the studio. It was completely different. There were curtains and a runway stage with hanging lights everywhere. Everything looked far more professional than it actually was.

"How are you going to start the show without Terrine?"

Carly whined. "I don't know. I guess we could do something last minute with Missy but we've already done that before!"

Sam nearly choked on her spoon. "Missy Robinson?" she asked in disgust.

"Yes. She and the other girls are downstairs," Carly said. "Oh! This isn't good! Where am I going to find a girl who would be willing to-" Suddenly, something in her brain clicked. She smiled sweetly, peering at Sam who was licking her spoon. "Hey Sam..."

Freddie noticed what was happening immediately. "No."

"Oh come on, Freddie. We're desperate," Carly begged. She turned back to Sam who looked up from her tub. "Sam, how would you like to be on iCarly?"

Sam grinned. "Really?"

"Sam!" Freddie warned. He made slicing gestures at his throat mouthing 'no'.

"I would love to!" she said jovially. "But...can I keep eating my potatoes?"

Carly smirked. "You can do whatever you want." She turned to Freddie who wore a defeated look on his face. She smiled walking past him. "I'm going to tell the girls that we have a change in schedule."

"Carly wait! Car-" Freddie was unable to get her attention before she was out the door. He turned back to Sam, who was sucking on the spoon. "Sam."

She spat out the spoon and waved it around as she spoke. "Freddling," she said using his tone to mimic his expression.

"What are you thinking?" He walked up to her. "You can't be on the show!"

"Why not?"

"I don't trust Carly," he said. "Not for one second. Not with you."

"Relax," she assured him. "Mama's got this."

Carly re-entered the room, followed by Missy and three other girls Sam had never seen before. When Sam's face locked onto Missy's, her eyes narrowed. If Carly was still friends with Missy, it made a lot of sense why she was acting the way she was. _I just have to get her away from those barbie dolls, _she thought. Suddenly, a glorious idea popped into her head. If she was going to be on iCarly...she was going to do it right.

"Okay are we ready?" she asked Freddie. He grunted in response. "Good! Sam, we're going to do an introduction and then you just hang tight and do what we tell you."

Sam shrugged. "Easy enough."

"Camera A, set to go," Freddie announced. "Camera B, on standby."

"Oh my god," Sam said, scooping a large chunk of potatoes onto her spoon. "Freddie these potatoes are magic." She struck her tongue towards the metal of the spoon, slowly licking off every ounce of the creamy side dish.

Carly recoiled, entirely disgusted. "Samantha?" Sam looked at her, her tongue still stuck to the spoon in a half-lick motion. "We're about to go live...on the air..." she tried to explain delicately. "Could you eat that some...other way?"

Sam removed the spoon from her mouth, gazing down at her tub. "Oh my god, Carly. You are so right..." She smiled sincerely and handed Carly her spoon. "What was I thinking?" She reached in with her bare hands and grabbed a handful of spuds. With glee, she shoved them into her mouth, licking the residue off of her fingers. "Mm. The salt from the fingers gives it that extra kick!"

Carly turned to Freddie who stood behind his laptop, amused. "Why?" she asked.

"Oh!" Sam said, swallowing the food that was in her mouth. "Did you want some, Carls?"

"No!" She said, backing away. "No, I'm good. They're all yours." She turned to Freddie again, who was trying desperately not to laugh. "Freddie!" she demanded. "Manage your girlfriend."

"Why? She's not hurting anyone."

"She's a pig!" Carly exclaimed.

Sam wiped her mouth. "We gonna do the show or what?"

"You have horrible taste in women!" Carly snapped as she hustled over to the front of the room.

"Okay, we're rolling in 5...4...3...2..." He announced, pointing as a signal to go.

"Hello wonderful viewers!" Carly said into the camera. "I'm Carly!"

Sam quickly jumped into the picture. "And I'm Sam!"

Carly turned to her, shocked and annoyed. "Sh!"

"Sorry."

"And this is the show that I like to call: iCarly!"

"The only web show that supplies you with meat jerky and a free service for putting holes in your socks!" Sam said with a grin.

"Except..." Carly said, trying to recover from the strangeness of that sentence. "Nothing like that." She smiled, looking back at the camera. "As you all know, today we were going to have a girl named Terrine on the show. But as you can see, Terrine couldn't make it this evening. Luckily, Freddie's girlfriend, Samantha, agreed to appear on the show instead."

Sam moved toward the camera, the movement so natural to her now. "I like fried chicken."

"Yes, we know," Carly said, moving her away from the lens. "Samantha, have you seen this show before?"

"It's Sam and no, but I bet it would be better with more mashed potatoes!"

Carly rolled her eyes. "Would you stop it with the mashed potatoes?" she whispered.

"You said I could have them."

Carly turned back to the camera. "Sam enjoys food."

"I love it more than most things," Sam agreed.

"And as tradition on this show, we're going to give Sam a makeover!" She gestured in the other girls.

Sam hesitated. "Uh...we could do that..." she said. "Or we could take Missy's hair extensions and play jump rope with them!" She leaned in, lifting her eyebrows. "Don't you think that sounds a lot more interesting?"

"But all jokes aside," Carly tried to cover. "Things are going to be a little different tonight on the show." She moved closer to Sam, putting her arm around her. "You see, Sam doesn't want just a normal makeover. So she asked if we would dress her up as an animal instead."

Sam blinked. "I...I did?"

Freddie turned the camera to face him. "That never happened," he said quietly.

"Yes!" Carly ensured as she turned the camera back to face her. "Now the makeover girls are going to take Sam into the makeover room and when she comes back, she'll be completely transformed!"

"Carly!" Freddie gripped the camera nervously.

"Sh! Freddie if you're not going to be on the show you have to be quiet!" Carly said, demandingly.

Sam followed the girls into the back room, giving Freddie a wink of reassurance. She wasn't quite sure what Carly was planning, but if dressing like an animal was her way of 'humiliating' her, then she was just as horrible at pranking here than she was back home. Or maybe, Sam thought, Carly's web show wasn't as dull or predictable as she might have suspected.

Carly had chosen to dress Sam up as a piglet, to which Sam was actually quite relieved. It was better than other animal costumes she could have made her wear. When she came out, Missy tried to hold her hand, but she slapped it away.

"Aww!" Carly said. "Doesn't she look adorable!"

Sam spun around and gave the camera her usual mugging grin. "I'm a piggy." She turned around, shaking her bottom. "Hey Freddie, you like my tail?" she asked.

Freddie zoomed in on it, unable to keep in his amusement. "It's a nice tail," he added.

Sam spun back around and lifted the camera to her face. "That's right. You boys can look, but you can't touch!"

"Okay!" Carly tried to get the attention back onto her. "Now that we've granted Sam's request it's time for a word from our sponsors."

Sam suddenly realized she was still holding her mashed potatoes. She dug for the rest of them, quickly finishing off the tub. "I don't care as long as the sponsors are these potatoes!" she said, showing her tub to the camera. "I want to take a bath in these potatoes. With warm butter and gravy...with big heaping pounds of-" Sam wasn't able to finish before she felt a wet sticky substance pour all over her head, dripping down to the floor. Her entire body stiffened, as the liquid was fairly warm. Her left nostril flared, picking up on the scent. "Bacon grease," she identified. _So this is her plan. _

"This week's greased pig is brought to you by midwest farming," Carly said into the camera. "Because if you eat like a pig...you may as well be one."

Freddie switched cameras immediately, setting his down to go help Sam. But when he looked at her, she gestured him away. "But..." he protested, but Sam simply smiled.

She immediately began to snivel, before bursting out into an infectious laugh. Carly turned, stunned, at the girl she had just humiliated. "Carly Shay. Can you believe this girl? This wonderful wonderful girl!" Sam shook her head. Looking at the second camera, she wiped a fake tear from her eye. "Here I thought iCarly was going to make only one of my dreams come true."

Carly's eyes bulged. "Excuse me?"

"Carly knows it's always been my lifelong dream to be bacon..." she turned to her, holding out her arms. "And now that dream is a reality." She moved towards her, arms widening with every step before locking her into a huge embrace. "Come here!"

"Oh..." Carly said trying to squirm away. "No...that's...ew...please get..."

"And now Carly is going to make yet _another _dream of mine a reality!" Sam said, folding her hands in front of her like a little girl waiting for an ice cream cone.

"I am?"

"Of course you are! You see, folks, it's always been my _dream _to wrestle on the live internet covered in bacon grease!"

"What?" Carly said, looking at Freddie. His jaw had dropped to the floor.

"Let's go, Missy! You and me!" Sam announced, running as fast as she could and tackling the girl to the ground.

"Ahhhh!" Missy screamed. She waved her arms around trying to block Sam's attack, feebly.

"Come on, Missy! Show me what your mama gave you!" Sam shouted, pushing her to the ground.

Carly whipped around to Freddie. "Freddie! Do something!"

"Aw, but it's her dream, Carly," he said, sarcastically.

Carly groaned, getting in front of camera B. "We're going to end the show early tonight. So all of you people out there who-"

"Say uncle!" Sam screamed

"Uncle!" Missy whined.

"Say it again!"

"Uncle!"

"Now say You're a pretty princess!"

"I'm a pretty princess!"

Carly frowned looking back into the lens. "I'm Carly Shay and this has been iCarly."

As soon as the show was over, and Freddie announced that they were clear, Sam released Missy. Missy and the other girls ran out screaming and crying while Carly simply stood and stared.

"Sam!" Freddie ran to her, helping her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "Sticky, but in all the right ways." She blushed. "Did I do good?"

"You were amazing."

"You..." Carly snapped, moving towards them. "You are never allowed in this studio ever again!"

Sam looked at her friend, sincerely. "You didn't think tonight was fun at all?"

"No! I did not think tonight was fun!"

Sam scrunched her eyebrows. This wasn't right. None of it was right. Sam's plan to remind Carly about how much fun insanity can be had fallen through. There was nothing left now but anger and disappointment. "Look, I don't know who you think you are with your fancy shoes and your mini skirt and your bad attitude, but when you see Carly Shay, tell her that she needs to get her act together. And when she does, she can call me!" Sam picked up her empty tub and began to walk to the door. She spotted Freddie, and stopped, pulling lightly on his collar. "You can stay here and finish working..." she said, feeling the material between her fingers. "But if you ever want to have some real fun..." She leaned in. He stiffened as he felt her breath on his face. "You know where to find me." She released him and started walking out the door. "Bye, Losers. I'm gonna go play putt-putt golf with a meatball..."

Freddie stood there for a moment as she left the room. "That is so hot." He grabbed his laptop and fled, leaving Carly with a more than puzzled look on her face.

* * *

"So," Freddie inquired as they walked down the stairs. "How do you play mini golf with a meatball?"

"Oh my god, Benson! You seriously need to get out more."

The made it down the flight of stairs as the door crept open. "Hey! I'm home!" a familiar voice called into the room. "Carly?"

"Spencer!" Sam called, running to him. "There you are!"

"Yes...here I am..." he said, looking at Sam closely. "And you are who?"

"Hey, Spence," Freddie greeted, walking casually to them.

"Hey! Freddo!" Spencer ran to Freddie giving him a hyperbolized fist-bump. "Yeah that's how we do it." He looked back at Sam. "Is this one yours?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." Freddie put his arm around his girlfriend. "This is Sam."

"Sup?" Sam said with a nod.

Spencer's face brightened. "Not _the _Sam."

"The one and only."

Spencer held out his hand to her, "It's very nice to finally meet you," he said. Sam smiled and took it, shaking it firmly. Spencer tried to ignore the pain from the handshake. He leaned over to Freddie. "She's strong...and sticky. Why is she sticky?"

"It's bacon grease," he informed him.

Spencer nodded with approval. "My kind of woman."

"Actually," Freddie explained. "We had a bit of an issue with iCarly. Your sister kind of doused her in it."

Spencer stopped. "Carly doused your girlfriend in bacon grease?"

"Yeah."

"How much bacon grease?"

"About a tub full," Freddie estimated.

Spencer fumed, letting go of Sam's hand. "Carly! Carly Shay! Get down here right now!"

"We should probably go," Freddie warned, leading Sam out the door.

Carly appeared at the top of the stairs. "What?"

"Did you use my bacon grease on iCarly?" Spencer asked, angrily.

"So what if I did?"

"Carly! I was going to use that for a sculpture I was working on!" he explained. "Do you know how much bacon I had to cook to get that grease?"

"What kind of sculpture could you possibly make that would use that much bacon grease?"

"Uh, a bacon sculpture?!"

"A bacon sculpture." Carly repeated with contempt. "You're so juvenile!" She groaned. "You know, maybe if you were normal-"

"Oh, here we go."

"I wouldn't have to be embarrassed to tell people that, yes, those are giant tubs of grease in my oven! Thank you for noticing!" She groaned. "It's humiliating!"

"You can't just use other people's stuff without asking! It isn't cool!"

"What would you know about cool?"

Freddie grabbed Sam's arm, pulling her out of the room as Carly and Spencer continued to argue. "Let's go, Sam."

"I hate you!" She heard Carly scream before the door swung shut.

Sam felt like she needed to catch her breath. What had just happened? Could going to a different school really change someone that much? As much as she wanted to believe that deep down Carly was the same person, it was getting harder and harder to do with every interaction. How was she supposed to enjoy anything in this world if she knew that both Carly and Spencer had to suffer for it? She began to feel nauseous. iCarly was dead. Carly was dead. There was nothing she could do, and it made her sick.


	6. iDon't Dance

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Six: iDon't Dance_

The next day at school, Sam didn't feel any better. She had left her backpack in Carly's apartment, a place she didn't feel like returning to any time soon. She went through three new classes, sitting in the back so no one would notice her. Carly...her Carly...the nicest person she had ever known, had forgotten who she was. Everything was wrong. Sam tried desperately to find a through line, something that connected all of these events together. What changed? What event triggered this catastrophic shift in time and space? She couldn't even enjoy being with Freddie, her guilt was so heavy. Was it her fault that Carly was this way? Was it because she wished her own life was normal and therefore her relationship with her suffered? Sam leaned against her locker, watching the people pass. _All of them, _she thought. _All of those people's lives are different now. _Were they better? Who could say? But what sickened her the most, was that even though Carly was her best friend in the whole world, she loved this new life she had been given and wanted to stay. Sam clutched her arm and sighed. _I really am a selfish person. _

"Hey!" Sam looked up to see Freddie moving in towards her. "Check out what I found!" He dug through his backpack and pulled out a pack of gum. "They have fat cake gum now! With twice as much fat and twice as much cake!"

Sam tried to smile, but couldn't bring herself to do it. "That's great."

Freddie sighed. "Aw, come on. Fat cakes are your passion!" He slipped his backpack back over his shoulder. "I thought this would make you happy."

"I'm fine," Sam lied. She was getting worse and worse at that the longer she stayed in this world.

"Sam."

"Really!" she shook her head. "I'm just confused."

Freddie nodded. "About Carly?"

"About everything," she said. She turned so her body was facing him, leaning on the locker. "I know Carly! Carly would never do something like that! She would never...ugh! Everything is just backwards! iCarly isn't supposed to be about...prissy girls giving each other makeovers! It's about making people laugh and having a good time!"

"Just because it's on the internet doesn't mean it has to be funny."

"You don't..." Sam groaned. "Never mind. It's too difficult to explain." She sulked back away from him.

"Hey," he said, trying to perk her up. "I was looking over some of the comments from last nights webcast." He pulled out his computer, opening it to reveal the new . "Everyone really liked you. Here. Listen to some of the comments." He cleared his throat and scrolled down to one he liked. "Freddie. Your girlfriend is totally hot. But the way she stood up for herself was even hotter. Nice score."

"I guess but-"

"And here. This one says: Sam, my name is Natalie and I also love fried chicken." Sam chuckled as Freddie continued to read. "I feel like there is a stigma for girls that feel they need to look or act a certain way in order to be accepted. When I was in school I was always teased because I brought huge lunches and was a little overweight. My solution to this was to stop eating altogether. I lost the weight, but gained a problem. I'm just now starting to recover from that. Tonight you proved to the world that we don't have to hate the things we love. I want to thank you for being strong and loving food. Food is awesome and so are you. Keep it up." Freddie shut the laptop. "And there are hundreds like it."

Sam shrugged. "So?"

"So..." he smiled. "You're amazing. What else is there to say?" Sam didn't look up. "I know you're upset because you think Carly is better than this. I don't know _what _made you think something like that but..." he rested his hand on hers. "Maybe after this she'll finally turn around." The bell rang as Freddie kissed Sam on the cheek. "I gotta go. I'll see you tonight."

"Tonight?" Sam asked curiously.

"Yeah! Don't tell me you-" And then he remembered. "Oh. Well, I'll pick you up at seven. Just wear something pretty."

_What could he-? _Sam suddenly remembered as well. _The dance. _"You're picking me up? In what? You can't drive!"

"You'll see!" Freddie called as he evaporated into the crowd. Sam sighed, making her way down to the bus stop.

Sam stepped into the house only to find Melanie staring at her. Sam looked around, wondering if she had done something. "Uh...hi?"

"Where were you?" she asked sternly.

"School." Melanie wasn't nearly this stupid. What was going on?

"Sam." She narrowed her eyes. "I'm so disappointed in you."

"That's a shocker," she said. "What did I do this time?"

Melanie stood up. "You're going to a dance tonight and you have absolutely nothing to wear!"

Sam lifted her eyebrow. "Seriously? That's what you're upset about?"

Melanie grinned. "Come on!" she said, grabbing Sam's hand. "I'm taking you shopping."

Sam groaned. "Why?"

"Because it's a _dance, _Sam! Don't you want to get something new? You know, for Freddie?"

"I could wear a paper bag to the dance and Freddie would think it was cute," she said.

And it was true. This world's Freddie loved everything she did, no matter what it was. She probably could treat him the way she used to before she fell in love with him and he would still be head-over-heels for her. _But then again, _Sam thought. _That might just be my perspective. _After all, this Sam didn't have the same history that she and Freddie had before the shift. Everything was like a fresh start with him. He wasn't even that different, she noted. Not really that different at all.

"No!" Mel insisted. "No paper bags! Sam, we're going to make you a princess!"

Sam groaned again. "Melanie..."

"Trust me," Melanie said with an addictive grin. "When we're done here, you'll be a new woman." With that, she dragged Sam back outside and to the bus stop. Sam couldn't help but be slightly amused by her excitement. Her relationship with Mel was certainly less tense in this universe. Maybe shopping with her wouldn't be that bad. _A new woman, huh? _Sam thought. _Try a whole new world._

* * *

Melanie dragged Sam all around the mall, shopping for hours. Every time Sam decided on something, Mel would second guess herself. It was always a little odd having a twin sister, but shopping with one was even stranger. They got twice as much done in half the time. Mel would put on an outfit Sam liked, and Sam wouldn't even have to change in and out of her clothes at all. They finally agreed on a dress and shoes, with accessories to match and were back home far sooner than Sam had suspected. She dare could say that the experience was...nice, in a way. Not that she would ever admit to it.

When seven o'clock was drawing near, Sam had locked herself in her room staring at the dress she had chosen. It was almost like a bad teen-flick. If she wore the perfect dress to the perfect dance with the perfect guy...she stuck out her tongue in disgust. Sam was never concerned with perfection based solely on the fact that she had always found it unobtainable from her position. Perfect was never on the agenda, not when Carly was around. Sam felt her stomach twist..._Carly. _

She shook her head. For once in her life, she didn't want to think about Carly. Tonight was about her. She showed her side to the mirror, allowing her blonde hair to flow over her back. The dress was simpler than her usual outfits, and not as tight fitting. Melanie had insisted that Sam be able to dance in her dress. It was a purple dress that held up by a single thick strap and snugly fit on top but flowed out, cutting off at her knee. What she really liked about it, though, was the pattern that formed feather-like designs from the side of the dress. Just enough to give it a 'wow' factor, but not too much to be tacky.

"It's simple, it's exotic...it's perfect Sam," Melanie had said while they were in the dressing room.

Sam took her word for it, just to get out of the store. But now that she had it on, it was starting to grow on her. Sam bunched up her hair and clipped the fascinator she had bought in it. It was a peacock feather. Sam looked in the mirror again and sighed. It wasn't going to get any better than that, she supposed. She slipped on the purple strappy heels she had bought for the dress and headed down the stairs.

_Meow! _A small cat appeared from behind Sam's door. Sam stared at it, frozen. That wasn't her cat, but it certainly looked like it. She felt her hair practically frizz at the sight of it. Swallowing hard, she knelt down and held out her hand, cautiously.

"N-nice kitty," she said, moving further towards the tiny animal. It didn't look dangerous. "Good kitty. That's a good kitty." the cat arrived at her hand, sniffing it. Sam pulled away slightly, unsure of what to make of the creature. But the cat simply caught up to her hand, ramming his face into her palm as though insisting to be petted. Sam felt the soft fur, scratching under its neck as it purred. She went to pick him up when she heard a shout from downstairs.

"Sam!" It was Melanie. "Hurry up! Get down here!"

Sam stood up, letting the cat run away. As her heels clacked down the wooden steps, she could hear her mother gasp.

"You're ready? Let me see!" Sam held out her arms, giving her mother a 'this is it' face. Pam went to her daughter. "Oh...Sam...let me look at you."

"I look like a bird, right?" Sam stated.

"No," Pam contradicted. "You look like a woman."

Sam's face fell. "I..." she couldn't process this. Her mother never gave her compliments, she never said anything nice to her. "I don't look bad?"

"Sammy..." Her mother brushed her hair to the side. "You look great."

"I helped!" Melanie chimed in. "But it was Sam's dress. She picked it out."

Sam felt her chest tighten. Her nose started to twitch as she gazed into Pam's eyes. They were filled with something she had never seen before: Pride. "You think I'm beautiful?" she said, embarrassed by how awkward and cheesy that sounded aloud. But she couldn't help it. It was just the dress, right? Or maybe she wasn't feeling well or-

"Of course you're beautiful, Sam," came her response. "You're my daughter, after all."

"Nope!" another voice called from the living room. Sam stiffened. "I won't allow it. No daughter of mine is going to a dance with a boy looking that good."

"Oh stop," Pam said, smacking him in the stomach. "Don't you dare embarrass her in front of Freddie."

The man chuckled. "I won't..."

Sam couldn't stop staring as the two put their arms around each other and looked back at her. "Two beautiful daughters," her mother said. "Could we ask for a better blessing?"

That was it. Sam couldn't take it anymore. She needed to get out of the house before she lost herself to the moment. "I'm..." she said, making her way to the door. "I'm going to wait for Freddie outside." She opened the door and started to walk out, only to run into Freddie who was on his way up the stairs.

"Hey there he is," Pam announced. "Five minutes early, as usual."

Freddie's color of choice that evening was black. From his black suit, his black tie and shiny black shoes, Sam couldn't tell where one article of clothing stopped and the other began. His face, however, was a bright red. "Wow...and here I thought you didn't remember." He scratched the back of his neck. "Shoot. I kind of feel like I underdressed."

Sam shrugged. "It was Melanie's idea."

"Thank you, Melanie," he said, half to himself. He offered her his arm. "Ready to go?"

Sam nodded, taking it. "I am so ready," she said. It was the truth. She couldn't stand to be in that house any longer than she needed to be.

"Wait!" a gruff voice came from behind. Sam slammed her eyes shut. "Before you go. We need to go over the rules."

Freddie sighed playfully. "Again, Mr. Puckett?"

"Hon, you've told him the rules so many times that _he _could recite them to you," Pam teased. "Right, Freddie?"

Freddie puffed out his chest, crossed his arms and looked straight forward. "Benson, I like you," he began, lowering his voice to a deep, growling tone. "So I'm only gonna say this once. Don't do anything illegal, be back before the sun's up and you better show her a good time 'cause she could dump you in a second. Remember that and you'll be alright."

Pam laughed hysterically. "He's got you down!"

Mr. Puckett rolled his eyes. "Alright, you better leave before I start telling you a fishing story."

Sam pulled Freddie down the stairs. "Goodnight!" she shouted.

"Goodnight honey! Make good choices!"

Sam turned around for a moment as the door to her house shut. _Make good choices? _These parents actually trusted her to do that?

"So," Freddie said. "I don't have a limo or anything but-"

"Hey Sam!" Gibby ran up to the two, his pink tux noticeable ten blocks down, at least. "You look hot."

"Oh my god, Gibby," Sam said trying not to wet herself. "What are you wearing?" She looked at Freddie, who was silently laughing to himself. "Did you actually beat all those levels of Cake Cruncher?"

"Not even close. But he saw what happened on iCarly so he-"

"I decided I would be your escort," he said. "Freddie and I made a deal. He said, if I take you and him to the dance, he would go with me to see the new Dragons of Yore movie."

"It's a sacrifice, because the last one was terrible," Freddie explained.

"Why the pink tux, then?" Sam inquired.

Gibby shrugged. "Cause I like to be fancy!" He did a little dance in the middle of the street to prove his point. "Gibbeh!" Sam chuckled. _Good ol' Gibby. _"Okay! Let's go to the dance! Whoo!" Freddie took Sam's arm and followed Gibby down the street. All expectations soon left as Sam found herself forgetting everything. For once she wasn't thinking about this world or that world. Tonight was a moment, just like any other. One that she wanted to preserve.

Gibby's car wasn't the most spectacular ride Sam had imagined. However, it was nice not needing parents around the escort them for once in their lives. Typically, Sam hated dances. It was nothing more than an excuse for people in relationships to flaunt the attractiveness of their significant other to the rest of the class without looking like a show off. For girls, the whole 'formal' element was a game. She didn't know why Freddie wanted to go so badly. _I guess he was into going to that girl's choice dance, _she remembered. That felt like ages ago. Maybe this world's Sam was into that kind of thing. As they walked in the entrance, everything was exactly the way Sam imagined it would be. The too loud music blazed over everyone's voices, making conversation impossible. The food was cheap, which was the worst part. But she could handle the loud noise and cheap food. Carly had strange parties with loud music all of the time. What she couldn't stand were the girls biting tooth and nail to get to the center of the dance-floor, showing off moves that five year olds knew how to do. Skimpy, low-cut dresses she could barely move in- seemed counter-productive for a dance.

Freddie attempted to shout over the crowd. "I have to go take care of something!" He squeezed Sam's hand before disappearing into the mass. "I'll be back!" she heard faintly.

Sam knew exactly what she was going to do. She took Gibby as they made their way to the only worthwhile attraction in the whole place: the snack table. Sam took a good look at the spread. Chips, salsa, mini hot dogs and burgers. It didn't seem too awful this time around. She smiled with content as she piled a toothpick up with mini hot dogs. Sam was in the middle of trying to stuff them all in her mouth when a dainty finger tapped her on the shoulder.

"You goshta wait in-" Sam said as she turned around to see Carly's smiling face. She nearly choked on the food.

"Hello, Samantha. Lovely party," she said gingerly. It put a chill down Sam's spine to hear her speak that way. It was as though she were playing a role, a clever depiction of a stereotype that only existed sketch comedy bits and sitcoms. There was nothing believable about any of this.

Sam grimaced. "Whater u doin' here?" she spat, her cheeks still stuffed with weenies.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not here to spoil your evening," Carly assured, taking a toothpick and stabbing one of the mini hot dogs for herself. "I just wanted to watch the crowning ceremony. Freddie promised to film the whole thing. Isn't that sweet of him?"

Sam swallowed the meat. "Freddie's working? Tonight?"

Carly pretended to act surprised. "He didn't tell you? I'm sorry."

Sam grit her teeth. Now it all made sense. "Why would you make him do that?"

Carly scoffed. "I didn't _make _him do anything. He offered." She leaned in, smiling. Sam's eyes narrowed. "Oh, don't give me that. After that little incident last night I'm sure he thought you wouldn't want to show your face in public ever again."

Sam went to make a comeback, but was stopped by a large, pink barricade. Gibby stood between Carly and Sam, his eyes raging in fire. "You leave her alone," he spat.

"Oh, good. It's the human tuna," Carly said sarcastically. "Nice outfit. Are you going to keep it on this time or will I have to call the cops again?" She smirked as she saw Gibby's face puff up. "How long do you think you can last wearing a shirt? Two? Three minutes?"

"I don't do that anymore," he said, trying to remain cool.

"Oh, don't you?" Carly said, condescendingly. "How disappointing."

"That's it!" Gibby said, making his way towards her. "Listen you little pixie! You better-"

Sam gripped him tightly. "Gib, dude. Chillax."

"But-" he protested.

"Breathe," Sam patted him on the stomach. Gibby backed away as Freddie reappeared inside the crowd. Sam turned back to Carly. "He doesn't do that anymore."

"Aw, look. The freak and the freakier," Carly replied. Her patronizing tone got Sam's blood going. She wanted to punch her, shake her out of it, do something. This never ending sketch was getting too difficult to keep going. "Between the two of you, how many kids of yours do you think will wind up in a mental hospital?"

"Hey!" Gibby shouted, before pausing. "Just to be clear, who is the freakier one?"

"Gibby!"

"Cause I'm totally okay if it's me!" he announced.

"You know what?" Sam finally said after a few minutes of arguing. "Fine. You can say what you want. It doesn't mean anything."

"Okay," Freddie said, coming up behind them. "I think that'll do it for now." He froze as soon as he saw the two. "Carly? What are you doing here?"

"Carly's lost," Sam explained. "She couldn't find her way back to the barn."

Carly's face flamed. "_Excuse _me?"

"I just assumed you came from your attitude that that's where you lived," Sam said sarcastically. She went to the punch bowl, taking the ladle and pouring herself a glass of punch. "Because let's face it." With a half-grin she lifted the glass over Carly's head, dumping the liquid all over her hair. Carly stood there in shock. "If you act like a cow, you may as well be one." She dropped the glass and backed away from Carly, disguising her hurt through triumphant eyes.

"Sam!" Freddie called after her.

"Sam?" Carly repeated in disbelief. "That's who you're worried about here? My hair is ruined!"

"You provoked her!" Freddie looked over at Gibby. "Will you watch my camera?"

"That's why I'm here!" he said. As Freddie ran through the crowd, Gibby walked up to Carly, getting in her face. "Gibbeh."

Carly scrunched her eyebrows. "Yes, I'm aware." She looked down at her dress, which was now soaked with punch. "Oh..." she groaned.

Freddie finally located Sam at the other edge of the dance floor. Her mind was buzzing. She couldn't believe what she had done. Granted, she deserved it for how she treated Gibby. But Carly Shay was never the type to criticize others. Sam hugged herself as Freddie walked over to her. She couldn't look at him.

"Sam. There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

"I didn't realize you had to work tonight," Sam said bitterly. "You could have said something."

Freddie sighed. "All I did was set up the camera for the crowning of the Spring Junior High Miss...whatever it is." Sam didn't look up. "Are you mad?"

"Kinda." She was quiet again. "Is it for iCarly?"

"In a sense," he admitted.

"...it's for Carly."

Freddie sighed. "Sam-"

"It's okay. I just..." She grit her teeth harder. "I don't see why I had to come to this princess fest just so you could make a few extra bucks. I mean...do you remember me liking this crud? Really? Because I don't think I do!"

Freddie scratched the back of his neck. "It was...easier to get you here than it would have been."

Sam was actually quite relieved to hear him say that. "So why'd you bring me here?"

Freddie smirked. "Oh, no reason in particular."

Sam wasn't buying it. "You just enjoy my suffering?"

"Yes, your screams of agony are music to my ears," he said sardonically. He took her hand. "But we're here and Gibby promised to watch the camera so..." He pulled her into him, grinning maliciously. "No excuses."

Sam growled. "I hate you."

"I know."

Sam thankfully didn't have to spend that much time on the dance floor with the other people before the party was put on hold for the special "crowning" ceremony. Freddie had made sure that they were precariously placed so he could keep an eye on his camera the entire time. _Figures, _Sam thought. She hated how much of a chore iCarly was becoming. Not only was the fun and randomness completely gone, but the amount of work almost seemed doubled.

"Ugh," Sam complained. "Why do we have to film the stupid crowning ceremony?"

"Oh stop," Freddie stated. "At least you're not on the stage. Remember the-" and then he remembered. "There was one year where you got elected to be up there," he chuckled. "You were so mad."

"Who in the world would elect _me _to be a queen of anything?"

"Don't ask me, I find it just as ridiculous as you do."

Principal Franklin arrived on the stage, along with Mr. Howard, Ms. Briggs and three girls who all wore the same skimpy style dresses. Sam cringed as she looked at who was standing in the middle. "Missy Robinson?"

"I know."

"Gross!"

"I know, I know," Freddie said, patting Sam on the shoulder. "Just bite your lip and get through it."

"If I could have your attention please," Principal Franklin began. "It is now the time of the night for us to crown our Spring Fling Queen." Sam cringed at the name. _Rhyming should be disqualified from life, _she thought with distain. Principal Franklin continued to make his speech, thanking everyone for taking the time out of their busy schedules to yadda yadda yadda. Sam couldn't care less. She checked out until he finally announced: "This year's Spring Fling Queen is..." He pulled out an envelope, almost as though they were watching the oscars. "Missy Robinson!"

"Ah what? Come on!" Sam shouted under the uproar of the crowd.

Missy? Why? Because her dad was in the military? She was rotten to the core and not pretty enough to justify said rotten behavior. Although, part of Sam wasn't surprised that someone like her rose to the top of this medieval food chain.

"Oh my gosh!" Missy exclaimed, pretending she didn't know the thing had to be rigged or something. There was no way this was legit. They placed the crown on her head. "I can't believe this is happening!"

Sam was too busy staring angrily at Missy to notice Freddie turn to Gibby. He held out his hand revealing five fingers. Four fingers. Three fingers. Two fingers...boom. The lights turned out. Gasps were heard about the space as the strobes began to flicker. An ambient voice came from nowhere, encircling the room. It said nothing, but laughed maniacally. Sam felt her body rush with excitement. She had no idea what was going on, but it certainly wasn't boring.

"Would somebody please turn on a light!" Ms. Briggs shouted.

Suddenly, a projection behind the stage was displayed, showing the form of the Double Joker, laughing as the room filled with fog. Briggs screamed, jumping into Howard's arms for protection.

"It's him!" She screamed.

Images of the Joker soon appeared on all of the walls surrounding the gym. They all laughed. Soon the laughter was replaced with the wail of an electric guitar. Something light floated onto Sam's head. When she looked up, she could see the papers flying from the top of the ceiling. Thousands of individual pieces of paper rained down as the students of ridgeway reached up for them. They stretched their hands out, almost in prayer as they clasped their hands over the paper. Sam squinted her eyes. She recognized them right away. Voting ballets.

The images projected then transformed to say things like THIS IS AMERICA and DOWN WITH THE MONARCH. Sam couldn't stand it. She started laughing hysterically. Missy Robinson stood on the stage, unable to project her scream over the metal song screaming "REVOLUTION!" Sam watched as a spotlight came on her, the entire crowd focusing back on the Queen. In an instant, almost out of nowhere, a spray of white powder hit her in the face, then red, and finally, blue. She screamed and ran off the stage, mortified.

"Hey, yeah!" One kid projected over the crowd. "Revolution!"

It wasn't long before the students of Ridgeway were rallied in a hectic rave dance, tossing the ballets into the air and stopping on them with their high heeled shoes. Girls released their hair out of their restricted buns, boys loosened their ties. The sight almost brought Sam to tears. Freddie pulled her in close to him, feeling the last of the ballets fall behind him. She didn't say anything, but leaned in and kissed him.

"Come on," he whispered millimeters away from her lips. "Let's blow this place." He took Sam's hand and ran with her through the maze of now-revolutionaries. She felt like Bonnie with Clyde, making their great escape. She only hoped their ending would be less unfortunate.

* * *

Freddie and Sam ran to the field. Sam was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. When they got to the middle of the grassy plane, they stopped to catch their breath. Sam felt her chest tighten, her stomach twist. Every attempt to speak was just another opportunity for her to experience hysterical laughter.

"Okay..." she finally was able to say. "_That _was good."

"Yeah," Freddie said, failing just as miserably to quit his guffaw. "Not bad for my first solo prank, ya think?"

"Wait..." Sam calmed herself. "I didn't help you with that one?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Freddie admitted. "Although now I guess it wouldn't matter either way. You still didn't know it was coming."

Sam nodded. "It was a good move." She spun around, looking back at the school. By now it was so dark, the only thing she could make out were the lights inside. "That was a lot of smoke. Will your camera be okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I asked Gibby to take care of it," he assured her. "That was part two of our deal. He really wanted to see Missy get covered with baby powder. I think that's the real reason he agreed to help." He grinned at Sam. "But the tux was for you."

"Aww." Sam kicked the dirt. "You let powder explode all over Missy, just for me?" She reached out and grabbed his hands.

"Only for you."

Sam leaned in, brushing her nose against his. "You...are the best boyfriend ever."

"Oh stop," he said. He paused a moment. "No never mind you can keep going. How awesome am I?"

"Don't push it."

He grinned sheepishly. "I know." He grabbed her hand as they began to walk further away from the school. "I'm just sorry Carly had to show up," he said. "The cow thing was pretty funny, though." Sam grew quiet. "What?"

"You and Carly are...neighbors," Sam said. She had to find an interesting way to approach her feelings. "Weren't you ever friends?"

Freddie stiffened. "Well...I mean, yeah once. A long time ago."

"What happened?" Sam immediately wished she took that back. She knew what happened. "Oh yeah, Briarwood."

But Freddie shook his head. "Not really. Sure, it didn't help matters but...Briarwood wasn't really that big of an issue, ya know? It's just a school."

"So what was it?"

"I-" he cleared his throat. "It got to the point where I just couldn't handle it. She wanted a lot from me and most of it I just...couldn't give anymore."

"And you never..." Sam continued testing the waters. "Liked her?"

Freddie shrugged. "Sure, I liked her. She was my only friend for a really long time and-"

"Dude," Sam stopped again.

"Oh. You mean like...that," he confirmed. Sam nodded. "Not really."

"You're lying," Sam said. "Don't do that. It doesn't work for you." She slipped her hand out of his, folding her arms in front of her. "Did you?"

Freddie looked down at his feet. "Yes."

"I knew it!" Sam exclaimed. "There isn't a timeline in this universe where you aren't-" _Monkey-brains! _She cursed to herself. _You gotta quit doing that, Sam! _"I thought something was up." She swallowed hard. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"Did you..." she tried to find the right words. "In the three years, I guess it's been," Sam still couldn't wrap her brain around that part. "That we've been together. Did you still...I mean did you ever consider...her?"

Freddie shook his head in astonishment. "What do you mean?"

"Did you ever think you might be...happier? With her, I mean? Did you ever think of asking her out or giving her a chance or anything?"

"No."

"And when we met. Did you ever, like, think you would rather be with Carly?"

"Of course not," Freddie replied with a certainty that terrified Sam.

"...not ever?"

"Not ever."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Not really, no."

Sam couldn't believe what she was hearing. She huffed, her entire body starting to lose composure. "Why?"

Freddie looked at her as though she had asked him to name the color of grass. "Because, I was in love with you."

Sam felt her heart drop to the floor. "...what?" No. This couldn't be. Freddie was in love with Carly. Freddie was always in love with Carly. If Carly wanted him, there he would be. That was the reality that Sam knew to be true. Suddenly, a steak stabbed itself through her heart. _That is the reality, _she told herself. What was she doing? Freddie wasn't hers, he never was. Even when they had dated, he was never truly hers. This was a lie. A dream. A set up. A mirage. It couldn't be real.

"Why would I date Carly?" he continued. "Why would I date anyone else?"

"...because you hate me," Sam whispered. She prayed he didn't hear her.

But he did. "What?"

"If you could have the option right now," she looked up, determined. "And Carly came running through that field and told you she had changed and that she wanted to be with you, would you take it?"

"No! Why on earth would I-"

"Given the choice. Me or her. You would choose me?"

"Of cou-"

"Every time? Without question?"

"Yes!"

Sam couldn't feel her toes. "You would...choose me...over Carly..."

"Sam," Freddie said. He looked sternly into her eyes. His chest rose. Sam gazed back, frightened. "This isn't a hypothetical situation," he stated. "I say what I say with absolute certainty because, well, yeah, okay. Carly has been flirting with me and that's what's been bothering me about work. That's why I made the contract. And I know. You're not stupid. You can see that." He reached for her arms, pulling her closer to him. "But every day I make this choice. And every day it's the same. I choose you. Today, tomorrow, as long as you'll have me. Okay?"

Sam couldn't tear herself away from him. "Okay," she said breathlessly.

Her nose started to twitch again. It was a pesky habit that made her emotions want to be seen. This time, however, she didn't think she'd be able to hold them in. She held onto him as tightly as she could, for fear that he would slip away. Now she knew. This was a dream. It had to have been. A reality where Freddie chose her not only over Carly, but over anyone else in the world? A reality where they were together and happy, with not a single hateful argument made? Such a reality couldn't exist. This was the work of fantasy, of blistered memories and wishful thinking. A family together? A mother who gave her love and affection? Who made her feel worthy of that love? A life filled with hope and promise for a future that didn't end in prison? None of these things were possible.

"Freddie," she said. _Now that I know it's a dream, _she thought. _I can let go. _She looked up at him, his eyes soft and warm just like they always had been. "I..." She felt her chest tighten, a pain lurked in stronger than anything she had felt before. She couldn't have him, not really. But she could pretend. Just for that night. She smiled. "I love you."

"I love you t-" his words were stopped as Sam yanked him into a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck, digging her face into his shoulder.

She shook her head, moving her face so her cheek was now resting where her eyes used to be. "I love you," she said again, this time with more confidence. She wasn't convincing herself, rather affirming. "I love you..." she bit her lip to prevent tears from coming to her eyes. "And I'm sorry."

Freddie blinked. "Why are you sorry?" There was no response. "Sam?" He moved his hand toward her arm, gently tugging at it. "Sam, Please talk to me." But Sam shook her head. How could she explain it? He would never believe her even if she tried. The real Freddie hated her, no matter what she did. She would never redeem herself in his eyes or Carly's. Finally, the boy in her arms inhaled, dropping his arm from hers. "Okay," he said in a hushed tone. "We can go grab something to eat. Would that help?"

He tried to pull away, but Sam didn't move. "Let's stay."

"Out here?" Freddie looked up at the sky. "I don't know, Sam. I think it might rain. Wouldn't you rather-" But the look on Sam's face told him he should stop there. "Okay, let's stay." He placed his hands on her waist. "We never did get our slow dance."

Sam moved her hands to his shoulders, pushing away slightly, but not enough to break his grasp on her hips. "With no music?"

Freddie shrugged. "Eh, we don't need music. Just the wind and the grass and the cars rushing by." He smiled. "Silence is better than a bad pop song any day."

Sam gave him a small smile as she rested her head on his shoulder. They began to move to the mood of the night, nothing but motion of life to count their steps. Sam felt at peace.

"Freddie?"

"Yeah?"

Sam smiled. "How did we meet?"

The boy chuckled. "We won a contest," he half joked. "No, really. We entered a contest to see who could guess how many fat cakes were in this huge tube. Whoever won, won locker 239. I was so certain I was going to win. I must have calculated the circumference of that thing five times or something. On the day of the drawing was the first day I saw you. I mean, I had seen you at school before and I knew you were...different. You were so enthusiastic, not really about the locker, but about the fat cakes. I thought that was so weird."

"But I was right."

"Yeah," Freddie looked down, amused. "But the contest was a tie. I remember looking at you and praying 'Please God, please. I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't make me share a locker with that girl'. But you know what He said to that? 'Freddie,' He said. 'I think I know you a little bit better than you know yourself.' And He was right."

"Did you ask me out, then?"

"I did," Freddie said. "It was terrifying."

"And...did you kiss me first or did I have to kick you into gear a little bit?" Sam joked.

Freddie's red face could be seen even through the shroud of the night sky. "No...I kissed you first. I was good." He laughed to himself. "Actually, it's funny. I asked your sister out, thinking she was you and then when I found out she wasn't you, you didn't talk to me for like a week. You were so jealous. It was cute."

Sam shrunk. "I'm not...normally the jealous type."

"No, I know. But I'm glad because Melanie wasn't really that great of a first date. I mean she's a nice girl and everything but, jeez she giggles a lot." Freddie shook his head at the memory. "So I spent the entire time thinking that was you and I was thinking 'Aw man! She completely changes when you date her. That sucks!' But we got it all straightened out. I finally tracked you down and you were able to tell me about Mel. I always felt kind of bad, but she was okay when she saw us together."

"And that's when you kissed me?"

Freddie nodded. "When I found out you weren't Melanie I was so relieved that I kissed you right there."

Sam shook her head. "You're a dork."

"I know," he admitted with a blush. "I just really liked you. You were the first person to ever, you know, change the way I thought about stuff."

"You mean like liking fat cakes?"

He laughed. "Something like that."

Sam couldn't stop smiling. Even if it was a dream, she would make every moment of it count. Here, she had no past, no parole officer, no assigned seat in detention. She could change everything she was, become anyone she wanted to be. But right now, that didn't really matter. She had what she had wanted for years: Freddie Benson's attention.


	7. iNever Win

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Seven: iNever Win _

Sam's thumbs twiddled in her pockets as she made her way up the elevator. The doors opened and she stepped out, noting the familiar pattern of the carpet. She checked her watch: 2:13. That morning she had received a text message from Carly's number asking her to come over so they could "discuss" what happened. Sam said she would meet Carly at her apartment around 2:15. She had left her backpack there anyway, so it would be easier just to go over and get it. Freddie didn't want her talking to Carly anymore after the whole "greased pig" fiasco, but Sam didn't have anything to hide or fear. Carly was still her best friend deep down. Maybe this time she was finally beginning to show her true colors.

Sam walked by the hall of doors until she reached Carly's. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Freddie's door, which was right across the hall where it always was. Mrs. Benson was probably in there feeding him prune pops and giving him another tick bath. Sam chuckled to herself. After what happened the previous night, he was getting more than just a tick bath. She walked over to Carly's door, knocking hard. Normally, she would have just let herself in but she figured that would probably scare this Carly half to death. It wasn't more than thirty seconds before Carly was at the door, wearing a summery dress with her black hair draped around her shoulders. As soon as she looked at her, Sam knew she wasn't there for hospitality.

"Samantha," she said with a plasticity that would make a barbie doll cringe. "Please come in."

Sam plastered on a fake smile and entered the apartment. "Thanks." It looked no different than it did the last time she stepped foot in there. She wasn't sure how she would expect it to. Carly closed the door and offered Sam a seat on the chair across from the couch.

"Peppy Cola?" she offered, holding the can to Sam's face.

Sam shook her head. "I'm good."

Carly took a seat on the couch, her white legs crossed and shiny from her obvious morning shave. "I want to apologize for the way I acted towards you," she finally said pouring herself a glass of Peppy Cola. "I really don't know what I was thinking."

Sam slouched into the chair, unwrapping a piece of bacon gum that she had in her pocket. "Obviously nothing smart."

Carly frowned. "Sam, what I did was wrong and I am sorry. Please accept my apology."

Sam lifted an eyebrow, assessing Carly's face. "Yeah, sure."

Carly's perked up. "Yay!" She took a dainty sip of her drink. "But anyway, I feel just awful."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Carly. Seriously. It's okay. You can stop talking about it."

Carly looked down and blushed. "I know, I guess I was just..." She looked back at Sam. "Disappointed. You see I've known Freddie for a long time, practically my whole life. So you can understand that I wasn't exactly thrilled to find out he was dating..." her eyes narrowed. "A criminal."

Sam shrugged, unfazed by the remark. "The future is mysterious and unpredictable." Sam chewed her gum and began to blow a bubble. "Hey, what do you bet I can get three bubbles inside of this next one?"

Carly shook her head in disbelief. She came to the conclusion that Sam had no idea what she was talking about. She pulled out a small playing card and waved it in front of her. "I found this in your backpack."

Pop! The bubble snapped. Carly grinned satisfactorily. Sam peeled the gum off her face and put it back in her mouth. "You went through my stuff?"

"I wanted to know what I was up against." She waved the card around. "And you did leave it here in my apartment."

Sam smiled. "Did you see my drawing of Mrs. Benson as a manticore?"

Carly stared at Sam, trying to hide the confusion on her face. "N-no. I did not see your manticore drawing."

"Too bad," Sam said, going back to chewing. "I think it's some of my best work."

"I did, however, find this card," she said getting back on track. Sam took a look at the face of the card. It was the double joker card Freddie had given her that first morning. "Look familiar?" Sam lifted her eyebrows, waiting for her to get to the point. Carly grinned. "Sam, you must understand that I have to assume the worst. And I can't just sit here and do nothing while you get away with the horrible things you have done." She smiled, standing up. "You know what has to happen, don't you?" She sat on the coffee table, in front of Sam. "Unless, of course, you want to figure out a trade?"

Sam spit out her gum into her hand and slapped it under Carly's coffee table, right next to her perfect legs. "I'm listening."

"A girl like you," Carly continued. "You have everything going for you. You're on the honor roll, you have a scholarship and your whole life ahead of you. I don't want to see you lose all of that just because you were a little rebellious in high school." She flipped her hair to the side. "And then there's Freddie, who you carelessly dragged into all of this!"

"Oh yeah," Sam jeered. "Cause Freddie never does _anything _wrong."

"I don't care what happens to you, Sam Puckett," Carly sneered. "Because quite frankly, I don't like you. But I don't want Freddie getting in trouble just because you got him involved in your antics!" She sighed, sitting up and crossing her legs. "But it's alright. All you have to do is say is that you will never see him again and we can put the whole thing behind us."

Sam blinked. "What if I...did this?" She leaned over and snatched the card away from Carly, ripping it in half. "Oops. Bye bye, evidence."

Carly smirked. "I have pictures, Sam. Pictures of your backpack, what I found in there, and I will find more. You can't get out of this." She leaned forward, her lips curving more and more into a cheshire cat smile. "I suggest you take my offer. Freddie may think he sees the good in you, but I can see what you really are. Rotten. You agree to stay away from him, or else your entire future is kaput." She tilted her head. "So what's it going to be, hm?"

Sam stared blankly into the eyes of her best friend. Her lips pursed together, her teeth clenching. With every breath she felt herself lose a little more control until finally she couldn't take it any more. She broke into a fit of hysterical laughter. Carly leaned back, even more confused now than in the beginning. Sam couldn't stop howling. Her gut began to cramp from the amount of pressure she felt from her guffaw. She clutched it, breathing heavily.

"You're laughing," Carly said, insulted. "Why are you laughing?"

Between fits of giggling, Sam was able to speak. "You!" She stood up, walking to the kitchen.

"D-didn't you hear what I said?"

"Oh..." Sam said, grabbing an apple from the fridge. "Believe me. I heard you." She couldn't stop chortling all the way back to the living room.

"You're supposed to be intimidated."

"Oh yeah, I'm so scared!" Sam shook her hands around, mocking fright.

"I don't get it! What did I say that was so funny?"

"You're blackmailing me!" Sam finally burst out. She lifted her fingers to her face, pinching her nose. "Oh god...I think I need to lie down."

"Um...okay."

"No, no. I'm okay," she contradicted. She inhaled. "Wow, Carly."

"I get it, you don't think I can do it! You think I'm too nice to go through with it." Carly couldn't bring herself to grin. "Well you're wrong! I will totally do it!"

"No!" Sam heaved. "It's not that!" Sam bit her lip, calming herself down. "It's just funny."

Carly's face fumed. "Funny?"

"Well, yeah," she said more tranquilly. "All I ever wanted was for you to see me as your equal. It took for us to become enemies for that to finally happen."

"W-who..." Carly stammered. "Who says I see you as an equal?"

"Maybe even a little bit above you."

Carly stood up. "Don't count on it!"

Sam smiled. She jumped around the apartment, tossing the apple up and down. "And you know what else is funny? You did this whole thing: taking pictures, videos, inviting me over here to blackmail me...you did all of that based on the assumption that I didn't want to get caught." She leaned against the counter. "You didn't think, for one second..." Sam lowered her smile to a sly grin. "That I want to."

Carly's eyes widened. "Huh?"

"Do you know who I am, Carly?" Sam asked, simply. "Do you even know my favorite color? No, and that's where you went wrong. Because the truth is, I do want to get caught. I _love _getting caught. I want people to see my work and say 'Hey! That Sam Puckett, she's a mad genius!'. You think I care about my stupid scholarship? My GPA? My _future?" _She walked over towards Carly, their eyes not leaving each other's for a second. "I want attention."

Carly trembled. "B-but-"

"Call the principal! Call the _police! _You think I care if I get arrested? I shoved a taco down the pants of the ambassador of Mexico!" She stopped for second. "Or was it a chalupa?" She shook it off. "I've been arrested four times, spent nights in prison with inmates playing poker, you think I care if I get detention? If I don't get to go to college? The only thing that matters to me..." Sam took a bite of her apple. "Is living. And that's what I'm doing."

Carly watched as Sam chewed. "I'll...I'll tell Freddie!"

"He knows."

"I'll make an announcement on iCarly!"

"I'll be famous."

"I'll..." she hesitated.

"And besides. If you do end up telling, all I have to do is say that you were my accomplice." She tilted her head to the side. "I mean really, a double joker and they think it's only one student? People are so stupid it's laughable."

Carly's eyes bulged. "Y-you can't drag me into this! You have no proof!"

"I believe that card is all the proof I need," Sam said, confidently. "The fact that you just now decided to turn me in, with access to my personal items? You came last night, to the dance. Remember? Why on earth would you set up a camera in perfect view of the stage? Just think about it. The Ridgeway Double Joker isn't a bulldog at all...just a snake from a preppy rich kid school who thinks she's better than us. No matter what you say, that story sure sounds a lot better on paper than the truth." Sam's eyes narrowed onto Carly's, who was stiff as a board. "I may have underestimated you, but don't you dare make the mistake of underestimating me."

"Wh-what do you want?" Carly sputtered.

"Want?" Sam frowned. "What the heck would I want from you?"

Carly continued to gaze, puzzled. "But if you don't want anything-"

"Here's what I want," Sam said seriously. A feeling washed over her, something she hadn't felt in a long time. Here she had the perfect opportunity. Carly, after all these years, at her beck and call. This would probably never happen again for the rest of her life. She walked over to the living room where the table is. "I want you to come here." Carly was hesitant, but she did as she was asked. "Sit."

"What's this-"

"Sit!" Carly sat on the couch. Sam turned to face the terrified girl as she folded her fingers together. "Cool." Sam took a deep breath. She placed one foot on the coffee table and leaned over her knee. "I'm gonna talk to you now. Your job is to sit there, shut up and listen. If you call anyone, if you speak of this to anyone, you'll wish you'd never been born, you got that?" Sam climbed over the table so she was face to face with Carly. "What I say is gonna sound really crazy. No matter what I say you can't say anything back."

"But what if-"

"Starting now."

"But-"

"Sh!" Sam hushed. Carly recoiled as Sam sighed, looking deep into her eyes. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to start? Only one thing burned in her head the entire time. "I hate you," she finally said. "I know I'm not supposed to. I don't have any reason to. When I said you never talk to me like I'm your equal, I meant it. Not at school, not with the show, and I know what you think. You think I'm broken. Well," Sam gulped, her gaze unwavering. "I am. I'm a horrible human being. I'm loud and obnoxious and violent, but you love that. You love that I need you because it doesn't matter what's wrong, you can fix it. You can fix me..."

"I don't under-"

"Shut up!" Sam stood. "I asked you to just shut up and listen and you can't even do that! I thought that if I could try to be a good person my life would change for the better. But every time I tried you kept reminding me of how horrible I was! Well, guess what? You're right. I can't change, Carly! I will always be Sam Puckett, the girl who uses brute force to solve everything! The girl who lies because when she tells the truth she gets hurt! The girl who puts up walls and never breaks them because what's behind them is more horrifying than anything you've ever seen! And sometimes I wonder..." She breathed in. "If you care about me at all."

Sam's mind was beginning to spin. It was almost as if years of pent-up energy was unleashing itself in a volcanic eruption. She couldn't stand the empty space. She went back to her seat on the coffee table.

"You know I..." she started again. "I don't have anything of my own. Everything I have, I have because of you. There was one time, one thing I had that was mine. A secret. And you didn't even let me have that. Or maybe..." She looked down. "Maybe I wasn't ready for it. Maybe I wanted to tell you because I wanted to show you that I did, but when you found out it was like it wasn't mine anymore. Do you know what it's like to have a best friend you can't tell anything to?" She shook her head. "That's where it all started, you know. That day...that night...my first kiss wasn't glamorous, but it was important to me. And you never even cared. All you did was yell at me! Because you couldn't let me have that! With him! With anyone!" Sam started to fume as she stood up again, making her way around the coffee table as she ranted. "And I'm sick of it! I'm sick of living in your shadow! I'm not your sidekick! I'm your friend! Your _best _friend!" She sighed. "But what's the point? What's the point of even competing with you when all you have to do is play and you'll win? That's how you see this, right? A game. Like you gave me your toy on the playground and now you decided you want it back." She looked back at Carly, who had loosened up quite a bit. "All I ever did was like him, and you didn't even have the decency to do that. Even after everything, he still loves you. Who am I to say he can't?" She chuckled. "You know, causing Freddie pain used to be the one thing I was better at than you..." she shook her head. "And even at that you beat me."

Sam began to walk out the door, stopping at the entrance.

"I love you, Carly," she whispered. "But I can't _stand _you."

Carly watched as Sam opened the door to the hall, slamming the door behind her. She stepped into the hallway, angry, upset, yet strangely elated. She had never realized how many things she kept to herself, how many words she had left unspoken for so many years. Perhaps she never felt like she had the right to say those things. After all, Carly was her best friend, her moral superior, her example for living a good and healthy life. It wasn't until that moment, in that room, that she realized just how angry she truly was.

As she leaned on the door, she closed her eyes, taking in the moment. Her serenity was interrupted as she heard a muffled sound coming from behind Freddie's door. Sam pushed off the door, moving closer to the sound. Soon, the conversation became clearer from the other side.

"Why?" a deep voice rocketed through the hall. "Why can't you just let me have this one thing?"

Sam stiffened. It was Freddie's voice.

"If it was any other girl, Freddie!" came another. This time it was Mrs. Benson.

"You'd be exactly the same way!" Freddie snapped. "This isn't about Sam! It's about you! You can't handle the fact that I'm growing up!"

"That girl is a plague!"

"That _girl _saved my life!"

"Why couldn't you have just continued liking Carly? Carly was nice." The comment was followed by silence and then the sound of rustling. "Fredward! Where do you think you are going?" He didn't respond. "Freddie!"

"I'm going out."

"Oh no you're not, young man! You're grounded, remember?"

Sam felt stuck to her spot across the hall. She should have move then, went back home and met up with him later. However, something was possessing her to stay.

"You can't ground me for going to a dance!"

"I am your mother. I can ground you for whatever I wish!"

Sam could hear Freddie groan from beyond the door. "Oh, so every time I'm happy you'll just ground me so everything can be exactly the way you want it, is that it?"

"No!"

"Can't you just be happy for me? Something in my life is finally going good! I just want to live for myself, Mom!"

"Not with her! I refuse to allow it!"

"Why? Because I love her?" he snapped.

"Don't say that! Don't you dare say that ever again!"

Freddie's voice muffled again. Through straining of her ears, Sam could hear the faint phrase. "I love Sam."

His words were immediately followed by a loud _whack! _Sam stood, stiff as a board. Silence settled into the hallway. The air caught in Sam's throat, she was unable to breathe. It wasn't long before The door handle twisted as Freddie Benson walked out into the hall, his hand tenderly touching the right side of his cheek. He shut the door behind him, his mother calling his name quietly. When he looked up, his eyes met Sam's immediately. She stared at him, her face blank.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" She didn't reply. Her breathing became heavier with every inhale. Her nostrils began to flare as she moved her eyes from Freddie, to the door. "Sam..."

"I'll kill her," she whispered, her head beginning to thrash. "I'll kill her!" she shouted again, making her way towards the door in a full on sprint.

Freddie was able to grab her and hold her back. "Sam! Stop! It's okay!"

Sam didn't stop. She pushed forward attempting to break the barrier. Okay? It wasn't okay. It was never okay. Freddie's mom loved him, didn't she? It didn't make sense. She was crazy, that was for sure, but she would never hurt her son. She would never...Sam felt uneasy. Her strength began to diminish as her chest grew hard. "I'm gonna kill her!" she shouted again. "Let go of me! Let go!" She squirmed, but it was clear that in her current state, she wasn't going to get anywhere. She collapsed onto the ground, tears beginning to tickle her eyes. She tried to calm herself down by breathing in and out. Eventually, she was able to settle herself.

"You okay?" Freddie asked. Sam looked away, her eyes slicing the ground. "I'm gonna let go now, alright?" He released Sam's arms, allowing them both to stand. "There." Sam couldn't take it. She angrily pushed him into the wall, pinning him there. "Hey!"

"Why the _heck _didn't you tell me?" her eyes shot into him.

"This was the first time it's happened."

"Oh sure!"

"I'm serious!" he sighed. "She didn't mean to...she was just angry that's all."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, that's how it always starts." Her mind flashed back to her own mother. "They're angry with you and they won't tell you why. At first it's just a one time thing. That turns into two times, then three, then twice a week, and then next thing you know you don't ever want to come home anymore! If a system works, there's no reason to change it."

"Oh come on, Sam."

"Has this happened before? Tell me the truth."

"No! Never!"

Her lips tightened. "You're sure?"

Freddie nodded. "Positive." Sam released her grip, resting her head on his chest. She didn't cry, she wasn't relieved. Backing away from him, she noticed a red mark starting to appear on his face. Freddie hesitated as she reached up towards his face, turning it to get a better look. "Is it bad?"

Sam shook her head. "You've had worse..." her voice was quiet. "It's all my fault."

Freddie snapped his head towards her. "No, it isn't. My mom just has a hard time letting me go, that's all. If she got to know you then this wouldn't be an issue." He grimaced. "She's just stubborn."

Sam blocked out his words. She couldn't hear anything but the screaming in her head. She put her hands on his neck. "It looks painful."

"Sam listen to me," he said directly. "It is _not _your fault." Her brain was in a fog as he leaned in to kiss her. She tried to kiss him back, she tried to tell herself that in this world she was different, that she didn't hurt him here like she did before. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the pit in her stomach. Thankfully, he pulled away before he noticed something was wrong.

He exhaled, hearing the sounds of sobbing through his apartment door. "I should go see if she's okay," he said.

Sam stared at the floor. She couldn't look at him. Not now. "Yeah."

"I'll try to-" he started before noticing Sam's avoidance. He felt uneasy. "I'll text you later."

Sam remained stoic the entire time. When Freddie disappeared behind the door, she could hear Mrs. Benson sobbing. Sam's head felt light, she stumbled away from the scene, unable to contain herself for much longer. She wanted to throw up. Home wasn't an option. She wasn't able to look into her mother's eyes this way. She couldn't go to Carly, Gibby wouldn't understand...she had nowhere to go. She ran past a long hallway, stopping before she reached a fork in the hall. She hadn't been down that way in years...

Suddenly, she knew exactly where she needed to be.

* * *

Sam slid open the window, putting one foot in front of the other over the ledge. A gust of wind brushed her hair back. Examining the area, she slid off the windowsill, landing with both feet on the metal surface. She walked over to the metal staircase leading to the bottom of the Bushwell Apartment Complex. Her hand grabbed the railing, her nose twitching as her other hand reached down and touched the step. She hadn't been back there since it happened, she was sure neither of them had been. She sunk down and sat there in the musty old fire escape.

Her mind was a tornado, hearing nothing but the unsteady silence circle around her. Freddie's words echoed in her head over and over. _It's not your fault, _she scoffed at them. Not her fault. Sure, he could say that now. This world's Sam never hurt him, never hit him up for cash, or dismantled his bike. The more she thought about it, the sicker she became. She only wanted him to leave her alone. That was why she pushed him away all those years. She hated him. Of course, that's how it was. It wasn't by accident, rather by choice.

_It's too late to take that back, _she thought. It was the only way to make sure he stayed away from her. Sam grimaced. _But I failed, _she thought. Freddie stayed for Carly. She thought she could get him to leave, force him out by scaring him off. The boy was too stubborn. She looked around the fire escape. _He stayed..._she thought again. That was the last thing Sam wanted back then. If he stayed, it wasn't for her, it was for Carly. Everything they did was for Carly. As years went on, she guessed, maybe it didn't always have to be that way. But she was wrong about that too. What kind of hypocrite was she, judging his mother for what she had done? After everything Sam did to him, could she honestly say that she loved him? Her hands covered her eyes. Her mother's face flashed in her head.

It was almost evening, the sun still high in the sky. She breathed in and out, hoping to calm down her mind, but the image of her mother continued to come forward. _No! _She snapped her head up. She shook it repeatedly, as though to erase the image from her mind. She wasn't like that. She wasn't her mother. She only hurt him because she had to, right? Her mom hurt her because she was...because she...Sam wasn't sure. She never hurt Melanie, not once.

_Is that Carly Shay in the mirror? _

Her mother's words to her rang back. She clutched herself tighter. Another voice was now taking over.

_There is a real living, breathing girl who wants to go out with you! This may never happen again! _

Her cheeks grew hot. How could someone say that about their son? Even if they did believe it was true.

_Well, no girl who's met ya is gonna go on a date with ya... _

Sam clutched her stomach, the pit feeling heavier. "Freddie..." Tears stung in her eyes as her hair fell over her face. "I'm sorry." She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Living there, seeing him smile at her the way he used to. She didn't deserve his kindness.

_No matter what happened that night...or what you're feeling now..._

That gentle touch, that soft voice filled with so much patience.

_I love you. _

She rejected his words, his touch, his love. She feared it. Here she was back in his arms, the chance to do things without years of fear and regret, and she still couldn't keep from causing him pain. Her heart began to race. The monster was in her blood, not in her world. She had tried to be good before. She changed everything about herself to become someone capable of love.

_Sam is like a pet chimp _

_She? She is lazy, and a criminal, and a nuisance, and she has terrible table manners!_

But she failed. As much as she wanted to leave the past behind, it was engrained into her entire being from birth.

_Who is that in the mirror? _

Her mother's voice came back. Sam wiped her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. She knew who she was. She was the problem that could never be fixed, the nightmare that the world would never wake up from. Carly took advantage of everything she had, that much was true. But it was Sam who didn't deserve even a scrap of that love. She stood up, her body feeling weak. There was no way she could keep the charade up any longer. She wouldn't be her mother, begging for love and affection while giving nothing in return. There was only one thing she could do.

She had to tell Freddie the truth.


	8. iTalk in Circles

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Eight: iTalk in Circles_

The door crept open as Sam dropped her backpack to the floor. She looked around the hallway and noticed that entire hallway was cleaner than when she left. _Mom must've done it, _she thought. The idea of her mother doing any kind of work was still incredibly foreign to her. However, just as she suspected, when she walked through the living room to the kitchen, she found her there fixing dinner. Sam checked her phone. 5:20. Was it that late already? She began to feel sick again. She must have been up in that fire escape for hours.

She knocked on the door frame, leaning against it with a slight smile. "Hey."

"Hey, Sam," Pam said, casually. "What do you think about burritos for dinner?"

"Whatever's fine." Sam walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She couldn't even think about food, and that scared her more than anything.

"So, where did you and Freddie go this afternoon?"

Sam drew circles with her finger on the wood. "I um...I wasn't with Freddie."

"Oh?" Pam didn't turn around.

"I actually left my backpack in Carly's apartment and-"

"Carly Shay?"

"...Yes," Sam replied, forgetting that her mother wasn't as familiar with Carly in this dream. Pam grunted, slamming a package of raw beef into a pan. It sizzled when it touched the metal surface. "I just went over to get it. Everything was fine until..." Sam began to chuckle at the memory. "Until she started talking."

"Oh Dear God."

"She tried to blackmail me into breaking up with Freddie."

Pam turned around for a moment. "She did what?"

"I know. It's ridiculous."

Pam shook her head. "I never liked that Carly. Always prancing around like she was some divine princess just cause she has some stupid web show."

Sam looked down. "I know. But she's not all bad. She used to be really nice to me."

"Yeah, well," Pam went back to her cooking. The meat was starting to brown now. "I just can't forgive her for what she did to you...greased pig my boot."

"Oh..." Sam blushed. "You saw that, huh?"

"News travels fast when it's viral."

Sam nodded. "Would you..." she swallowed hard. "Would you watch it if I was on it?"

Pam scowled. "You mean like you were on it the other night? I would sue."

Sam sighed. "Never mind." She went back to drawing circles on the table.

It was quiet for a long time as Pam went back to cooking. Sam didn't react to the aroma beginning to fill the kitchen. Her eyes remained downcast as she thought about what Carly had said. Ruining Freddie's life was the last thing she wanted to do, now that she knew that she had the complete capability to do it. After a while, her mother came over and sat down at the table. She slid a plate over to Sam.

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "What's this?" She looked on the plate, where she saw two buns held together by a thick saucy substance.

"It's a sloppy joe. For you."

Sam smiled, confused. "Why did you make me this?"

Pam shrugged. "Because the sloppiest of days requires the sloppiest of joes."

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

"Sam?" she called. Her daughter didn't move. She leaned across the table. "There's something you're not telling me." Sam shook her head. "Come on, Kid. I raised you. Don't you think I know when something's up? What happened?"

Sam bit her lip. She couldn't win with this woman. "I...It's..." she gulped. "It's Freddie."

"Oh no. Did you two get in an argument?"

"No...nothing like that." She smiled lightly. "Trust me, arguments with Benson I know how to handle."

"I believe it. What's the issue, then?"

"I was walking out of Carly's apartment. And you know, Freddie's is right across the hall. So I get out there and..." Sam's chest felt tight. She wasn't sure how she was going to explain this to her mother. "I heard his mom screaming at him. And he was screaming back and..." She swallowed. "Carly had mentioned that I was a bad influence on him-"

"She's one to talk."

Sam frowned. "What if she's right?"

Pam's jaw dropped. "Sam," she said aghast. "How could you even consider that?"

"Why shouldn't I? That's what everyone thinks!" Sam snapped. "Carly never approved of us, not ever! His mom thinks I'm a wreck and a plague-"

"A _plague?_"

"Even Gibby tried to break us up! And maybe they're all right! Maybe I'm just too violent and mean and...and..." Sam sunk her head into the floor. "And all I do is cause him pain."

"Pain? What on earth are you talking about?" Pam asked. Sam didn't reply. "Oh Sammy, you don't really think that do-" Sam sunk further down into her arms until her entire face was covered. "You said you heard Freddie and his mom yelling at each other. Were they yelling about you?" Sam nodded. Her mother came around and knelt by her chair. "Did you hear what they said?" Sam nodded again. "Can you tell me?"

Sam lifted her head out of her arms and rotated towards Pam. "Mrs. Benson found out that Freddie went to the dance with me instead of going on a blind date she set up for him."

"Uh huh."

"She said he should have dated Carly cause at least Carly was nice and she said I was a plague and a...bulldozer."

"And Freddie? Did he just sit and listen to that?"

"No, he defended me." Her face grew dark. "But..." her throat started to become dry. "She didn't exactly...what I mean is...I mean I didn't see it, but..."

"Sam. It's okay just tell me what happened."

Sam sighed. "She...she kind of..." She couldn't form the words in her mouth, as simple as they were. As the worried look on her mother's face began to deepen, Sam lifted her hand up. Her fingers trembled as she jerkily hovered it by her cheek. Flattening her palm, she lightly smacked herself in the face. Pam's face morphed from worry to horror in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, Honey..." she said, reaching out and pulling Sam towards her in an embrace. Sam didn't feel strange, or out of place like usual. It was comforting. This, after all, wasn't her mother. She knew that. "It isn't your fault."

"I know that," Sam said.

"I'm so sorry," Pam whispered. Sam buried her face in her mom's shirt. She was so weak in this place...so vulnerable compared to in the world she knew. "I know." Pam stroked her head. "I know. You care about him so much."

"I just..." Sam spoke through the fabric. "I just want to be good."

"Sammy, listen to me," Pam said, pulling her daughter away and brushing the hair out of her face. "You are a kind, good, beautiful, intelligent and thoughtful young woman. If Mrs. Benson can't see that then she's dumber than a football bat."

"And you believe that?" Sam responded in disbelief.

"Every word. Now eat your joe before it gets cold. I have to make sure I finish the cupcakes for your father's stupid dinner are ready."

"Y-you and Dad are going out tonight?"

"Yeah some company dinner his boss is putting together. We're going to BF Wangs, so at least I'll be able to bring home something edible for when I don't feel like cooking...which is always." She chuckled to herself.

"Can you get me an order of those crab wanton things?"

"Sure thing, Turtleduck." She leaned in close. "That is if your Daddy doesn't eat them on the way home like last time. Ugh. I don't know why I have to bring something if we're going to a restaurant. It seems so, I dunno,"

"Redundant?" Sam asked.

Pam grinned, proudly. "See? You're totally smart. Smarter than I was at your age." She kissed her daughter on the forehead before heading back to the kitchen. "Maybe I can just cheat and make them out of a box mix..."

Sam picked up her sloppy joe and looked at her mother's back. "Hey, Mom..."

"Yeah?"

There was a long pause before Sam could bring up enough courage to ask. "Are you happy?"

"I will be when I find three boxes of cake mix."

Sam shook her head. "No I mean...with me, and Dad and Mel...our life together," she asked. Pam turned to face her daughter, slightly stunned by the question. "Are you happy?"

Pam smiled from ear to ear. "Very happy."

* * *

Sam stood in her room, looking at it in the light. She couldn't remember the last time she was home at sunset and now it was beginning to turn to dusk. Nothing seemed to have changed. Her bed was still a simple rod-iron bed with a cover and sheets she may as well not put on, but always did anyway. The walls were green, like the rest of the house: a light mossy color that didn't match anything else around it. Nothing was different, yet everything was. There was no stranger feeling than that.

_You are a kind, beautiful, intelligent, and thoughtful young woman. _

She wasn't talking about her. She was talking about the Sam from this dream, the one who somehow managed to be free of the need to torment others for attention, the one Freddie loved and Carly envied. The one who made it on the honor roll and had a bright future ahead of her. That Sam was smart and beautiful and loyal and kind...but that Sam wasn't her. Maybe if she just heard those words...maybe if someone truly believed she could be all of those things, then things would be different. But nothing was different. Sam was still Sam. It wasn't fair for her to stay.

The door opened, a face popping in. Sam turned away from it. "Sorry, I should have knocked," Freddie's voice snuck into the room.

"No, it's cool."

He walked further into the room. "Listen, Sam-"

"It's okay. You don't have to explain anything," she said. "Just come in." Freddie made his way to the bed and sat. Sam went to the door. "I gotta talk to you."

"Yeah, I figured that's why you invited me over." Sam didn't reply. She shut the door, leaning her forehead against the wood. "Is it about Carly? Did you go over there? Did she say something to you?" Sam, again, didn't respond. How would she even begin to explain to him everything that was happening? "Was it something I did?" Sam bit her lip. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that."

"I can't do this," she finally said.

"Can't do...what?"

She turned around to face him. "Freddie, listen to me. I'm not the girl that you think I am."

Freddie chortled. "Oh, is that all?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Listen Sam, if this is about what my Mom said then-"

"It's not about that at all," Sam announced. "What I mean is, I'm not..._from _here."

Freddie scrunched his eyebrows, his lips tightening into a closed smile. "Huh?"

Sam sighed. "Remember how I hit that TV a couple days ago and I told you I had amnesia? Well...I lied." She clenched her fists. "Okay, I didn't one hundred percent lie. I kind of do have amnesia in that I have no idea what is going on half the time in this place. Everything is so different. But I didn't tell you everything."

"Okay," Freddie sat up.

"I do have memories. They just don't...match what's currently happening. It's like, one day I was Sam Puckett and now, well now I'm still Sam Puckett, but not the Sam Puckett I was, but the one you know, who I know nothing about who apparently got all A's and knows how to eat with good manners and I'm so confused right now I think I'm going to explode!"

"I...don't follow."

"Ugh. I smashed the TV and it sent me to this weird alternate universe or put me in a coma or something where my mom is nice, and my dad is back, and you and I are a couple and Carly still has iCarly but it's all wrong and she's into you, but you're completely in love with Me...er...Sam and she's mean to Spencer all cause she went to that stupid Briarwood prep school-"

Freddie stood, holding his hands up. "Hold on, wait, slow down...I have no idea what you're trying to tell me." She stopped talking to look at him. "I love you, but you're acting more insane than usual."

"But that's just it though! You don't love me! You love Carly...and...and...you and I we hate each other. But, not really, we kind of like each other. It's complicated."

Freddie scrunched his nose. "...I'm in love with Carly?"

"Yes!"

"Ew."

"No! Not ew! She's different. She's...nice..." Sam shook her head. "But the Sam you know and fell in love with, that's not me."

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You can't remember anything, because you got electrocuted by the television when you foolishly smashed it with a baseball bat a few nights ago..."

"Right!"

"But you remember all of this other stuff that never actually happened?" he asked. "Like...me being in love with Carly?"

"No, because it's this world that's the fake one!"

Freddie crossed his arms. "And how do you know that?"

"Because my-" She grew quiet. "Look, the things I knew back home, they're too real to imagine. And everything here is too wonderful to be real." Freddie stared at her, still thinking she's pulling his leg. "You wanna see the real Sam? This..." she spun around, showing off her outfit. "This isn't Sam." She ran over to the corner where she found a comb and began ratting her hair. She unzipped her jacket and allowed her bra-strap to show by pulling her shirt down. "I wear boxer shorts, and beat up children and..." She pulled up her shirt. "There used to be a scar here when my mom threw a squirrel at me when I was ten. It's completely gone now! Every scar, every bruise, my skin is peaches and cream!" She ran to her closet where she found a bag of old cheese puffs. Stuffing a bunch of them in her mouth, she chewed with the worst manners possible, showing them off to Freddie. "Blahhhhh I luff cheese. In puff form." She stuck out her tongue at him before swallowing. "Do you get it now?"

Freddie shook his head, laughing. "Sam, you're not perfect. That doesn't mean you're a monster from another dimension." He sat back down. "I promise you, there is nothing you could do that I haven't seen you do before."

"But-"

"Do you really think I'm not going to love you anymore just because of a few negative attributes?"

"Attri-I'm a freak of nature!"

Freddie shrugged. "I disagree."

"But...but that's..."

"Is there a point to all of this or are you just messing with me?" Freddie asked. "I mean, I love science fiction role play as much as the next guy, but I never thought you liked-"

"So you don't believe me?" Sam asked, changing the tone considerably. She shouldn't have been surprised, he never believed her before, why should that change with just a few alterations to a timeline? If that even was what was going on. She couldn't tell anymore.

"I guess I just don't see how it matters," he replied. Sam wasn't expecting that. "This world, that world, those memories or these..."

"I don't really expect you to get it," Sam mumbled. "Your memories of me are different than mine are of you. But..." She looked at him as gently as she could. "I can't keep going on like this, knowing..."

"Sam..." he said, matching her gaze. He was so much better at it than she was. "If this is seriously bugging you, then you need to just tell me."

"I tried. But you don't-"

"I never said I didn't believe you," he contradicted. "And if it's real to you, then that means it is true." He reached out his hand for Sam to take. Sam stared at it, skeptically, but took it and joined Freddie on the bed. "So start from the beginning."

Sam sighed, looking at her shoes. "My Dad left my mom before I was able to walk. She blamed me because I was always a difficult kid. I puked in her car when I was six years old. It's just me and her in this house. Same house, though, except there are boxes and old newspapers all over the place. Pizza boxes, rotting food, you name it. The place smells like a compost."

"Gross...and oddly specific."

"So because my Dad left, my mom always had other guys over...all of the time. It was fine except when I did something wrong. She made me participate in beauty pageants for money, wasted all of that time and dough on dance lessons and I never won a single pageant. I hated them, too. But she wouldn't let me quit..."

"Sam..." Freddie's voice grew very quiet.

"What?"

"Do you remember your mom ever...like...hitting you?"

"All the time."

Freddie became stiff. "Is that why you-" he stopped. Sam could feel he was becoming uncomfortable. "You thought it was happening to me?" Sam nodded. "That makes a lot of sense."

"What do you mean?"

"Your mom told me that you had a freak out Thursday morning. You dove behind the table because you thought she was going to hit you. She was really scared by it."

"Oh."

"Why do you think you have visions like that?"

Sam stood up. "They're not visions, Freddie! They're memories!"

"Right, sorry. Memories..." He was still for a long time. "I can't imagine Pam doing something like that."

"That lady downstairs isn't my mother," Sam said coldly. "But she is, in a way. Just like Carly is still Carly and Spencer is still Spencer...Gibby will always be Gibby..."

"And me?"

Sam grinned. "You're definitely still you. Warts and all."


	9. iHave You

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Nine: iHave You_

Freddie took the bag and pulled out a cheese puff, lifting it with his thumb and pointer finger into the air. Sam nodded and opened her mouth. The two had moved from the bed to the floor, sitting across from one another. He tossed the cheese puff to her and she caught it.

"I can't get around the idea that you think you and Carly are friends. It's just weird," he said handing Sam the bag.

She took it and pulled out a puff to throw at him next. They continued to play the game through the conversation. "It wouldn't be so hard to imagine if you actually knew her like I did."

"I've known Carly forever..." he replied. "You two just don't seem like you would get along at all."

"We...don't really," Sam said, honestly. This caught Freddie's attention. "I mean, okay she's my best friend. She just gets on my nerves sometimes. Like she'll yell at me for being late for rehearsal or something, but I can't help that all of the time, ya know?"

"Totally."

"And then there are times when I don't think she even likes me. She says she does, but I have trouble believing it. She'll call me a freak or a nightmare to my face, and then attach an 'I love you' to it, almost as though it's a joke. But I know it's not a joke. She really thinks I'm that horrible. And she keeps trying to get me into a relationship. _Forcing_ me is a better word for it."

"Have you..." Freddie blushed. "Had a lot of relationships then?"

His tone went over Sam's head as she scoffed. "Hardly. You remember Frankie Merkin from elementary school? Well, I told Carly I liked him and she sent him a love letter saying it was from me. I found out about it at recess and pushed him out of a tree..."

"That sounds like something you would do."

"I didn't date till eight grade after that. There was this guy Jonah who-" Sam's face grew red. "He was a jerk, but I liked him so Carly convinced you to ask him to ask me out."

Freddie's head shot up. "Wait wait. Eighth grade. You mean Jonah that guy from my French class?"

"I guess."

Freddie frowned. "I got a B in that class because of him." He grabbed the bag and began to eat a few cheese puffs before continuing with the game. "But don't feel bad. Carly's always been the meddlesome type. She was always trying to get me to go out with other girls so she-" he stopped suddenly. "So what happened? With Jonah, I mean."

Sam was quiet. "He tried to kiss her."

"Oh."

"And would you believe the next time we dated it was the _same guy. _Consciously. I mean that was so stupid."

Freddie laughed. "That is pretty stupid."

"So...that's why..." she stopped for a moment, looking at Freddie. "I promised myself I wouldn't go for another guy Carly was into. That was hard though, cause she's like into a new guy every week."

"Yep."

"She wanted me to be happy and she thought the way to do that was to get me a boyfriend. I didn't really mind at first. There was this other guy, Pete who I went on three dates with or something like that..." She laughed.

"What?"

"It's just weird that I'm telling you all this. Where I'm standing you were there for all of it."

"I wish I had known you in elementary school."

Sam snickered. "Trust me. No you don't."

"I'm sure you weren't nearly as bad as people say you were." He smiled, his eyes dancing with delight. "And even if you were, I wouldn't really care."

Sam grabbed the bag and nervously. He really didn't get it, did he? "But anyway so Pete."

"Right. Pete."

"Carly invited him to my birthday party and...he called me a dude. So that was the first time I tried to change. I wanted to be more girly." Freddie let out a loud guffaw. "Seriously!"

"How'd that turn out?" he said, still laughing.

"I honestly believed she thought I could do it. But when it came time to actually perform, I did. And I still wasn't enough. Or maybe..."

Freddie settled himself. "You sure got involved with some dung piles."

But Sam shook her head. "With Pete it wasn't like that. He was nice, but that's all he really had going for him. He liked who I was, for the most part. I just...I said I wanted a boyfriend, but when it came down to it I was never satisfied. I didn't date again after that for...a year? No, two years. I guess she thought that was too long for a girl to be single. I don't think...yeah, no. There's only one relationship of mine that I actually initiated without her help."

"Which one was that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Sam blushed. "That...isn't really important." She didn't want to bring up her relationship with him, not just yet. "I really kind of lost my mind when she was convinced I liked our intern Brad. She had you in on it, she embarrassed me and I _told _her! I don't like Brad, Carly! And still she kept telling me to make a move! And...it's like...even if I did like him I wasn't ready to make a move cause we barely knew each other! Ugh! She thinks I can't handle my own love life! I'm a pet she needs to take care of and it's really, really annoying."

"I agree. I think Carly was wrong to do that to you." He looked up to see Sam's eyes light up, her mouth widening into a smile. "What?"

"Say it again."

"What? That I think Carly is wrong?" he asked. Sam nodded. "Why?"

"I'm just savoring the moment, that's all. It might never happen again."

"Oh..." Freddie mumbled under his breath. "I think Carly is wrong about a lot of things."

"Not for me. You always agree with her, always. Even when she's wrong you agree with her. It's nice to hear you agree with me for once...on something that's not about food or MMA fights or planning pranks." She sighed. "But, you know, you love her so..."

"I don't love her."

"Right, but from what I remember you do."

Freddie held onto the plastic bag, looking down into it now half empty. "What about us?"

Sam lifted an eyebrow. "Us?"

Freddie didn't look up. "You mentioned Pete and Jonah and Brad...and there were some other guys, I'm guessing. But did you...I mean did we ever..."

Sam slipped her arms under her legs. "There is no us." The words hung in the air like weights of steel.

"Oh."

Sam hugged her knees tighter. "Maybe there was, once. Or...maybe there never was. I think we came to the conclusion that...there never would be."

Freddie nodded. "Can I ask why?"

"We said it was because we were too different...incompatible..."

Freddie squinted his eyes, confused. "You and I are _incompatible?_ Says who?"

"I don't think that's the real reason, though." Sam ignored him. Freddie's ears perked. "I think...we spent so long needing Carly for everything that we forgot that we could exist without her. And now we just...can't." She pulled her hair out of her face. "You see what I mean?" Freddie didn't look up. He didn't say a word. "As long as there's a...her...there can't really be an us."

"Because she said so?" he snapped coldly.

Sam was about to shout _No! _but something stopped her. It was the hard cold lump that she never addressed, never acknowledged. The truth. "Basically. But it's more complicated than that."

"Some friend."

"It would be something that would happen eventually. I mean you never really got over her so-"

Freddie put his hands on his head. "Please stop saying that."

"But for me-"

"Yeah! I know! For you it's true!" Freddie shouted, standing to his feet. "But for me it's not! So just stop pretending like your world is fact and mine is fiction! That's not how this works!"

"Okay," Sam said, standing to meet him. "Dude, calm down."

"How can I be calm, Sam? Huh? You tell me how I can be calm knowing that in some reality I'm still slobbering over that...that..." He placed his hands over his head again and began to pace around the room. "Maybe it's not even in another reality. Even if it's in your head! No, that's even worse." He slammed his head down and rotated towards Sam, his eyes locking onto hers directly. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Everything! The boys, the show, the fact that I'm..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. "Is it true?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes! Really!"

His breath became short as his cheeks turned hot. "I swear to god, Sam. If this is some kind of trick-"

"It's not! I wouldn't lie to-" She stopped. "Okay, that's not true. I lie. It's what I do. I'm a pathological liar. But I swear this time I'm not lying! I promise!"

Freddie examined her face. He knew at an instant. "You're not, are you?" His heart began to pound. "Buttons..." he pretended to curse.

"And it shouldn't matter anyway. It's not like what's true in my memory is what's true here. Like you said, they're too completely different realities."

Her words didn't calm him. In fact, they seemed to rile him up more. His nose burned red. "But it is."

"What?"

"You mean I never get over her? Not ever?" He insisted. "Not even when you and I..." he reached his hands up to his hair, pulling on it. "No, no. You're wrong. This is wrong. It's all wrong. I spend years doing everything she says, following her around like some...some sick puppy and now you're telling me that I gave up the _best _thing in my life on the grounds that she told me to? I'm not buying it, Puckett!"

"Well you can buy it or not buy it all you want, but that doesn't change anything! That's the way it happened in my memory! You think you're the only one who suffered cause of this? I loved you!" she proclaimed. "And I watched you pine for her! Fall over and over again! You got hit by a taco truck for her! I was there, Benson! I was there through it all and I couldn't stand it! And then after we broke up you just went back to her, like nothing happened. Like I didn't matter at all. And that sucks! Because for me there's never been anyone else! Not ever!"

There was a long silence before Freddie finally spoke again. His words were quieter, more serene, but his voice cracked whenever a tone was uttered. "Carly was my first kiss," he finally said.

Sam's nose twitched. "Really?"

"She was my first crush, my first dance, my first..." he paused, looking down at his shoes. "Everything.

Sam's eyes widened. "Oh."

"When I first saw her I thought, this is it. She's the one. The girl of my dreams. But she never wanted me, not really. She'd want nothing more than for me to stop pining for her attention, she she'd set me up on these dates and I guess that's why I'm so uptight about going on blind dates now." He folded his arms across his chest. "But then I'd get too involved with a girl if I really liked her and that upset Carly. She needed me around, I guess. So then she'd say she missed me and I would drop everything because I thought she wanted to be with me. She never did. She kissed me, though. First time was cause I was almost going to leave the show. Second time was because she wanted me to give up this thing I won to Missy Robinson of all people, which I did."

Sam grimaced. "I hate that witch."

"And years, Sam. This went on for years. No one really told me to stop, but I knew it was wrong. I was just so lonely..." he sighed. "And once Carly figured out that she could get me to do anything she wanted just by kissing me, things got...bad." He walked towards Sam, his gaze never leaving hers. "Look, the point is, I know that in your mind I'm in love with Carly because I jumped in front of a taco truck for her and saved her life...or something."

"I ate half the tacos on the truck that day."

"But in this world, in my memories, you were the one who saved mine." He took her hand, moving in close. "Having to share that locker with you was the best thing to ever happen to me."

"But..." Sam said confused. "I'm Sam Puckett."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm a juvenile delinquent."

Freddie thought for a second. "That I did not know."

"See?" Sam pulled away from him. "You only think you know me cause you've never actually seen any of the horrible things I've done! And Carly's right, Freddie! It's who I am! I'm a monster and a liar and a cheat and I beat you and hurt you and-" Her words were stopped by his hand resting itself on her neck.

"You done?" he asked. Sam stared at him in disbelief. "It doesn't matter what you've done. Who you are comes from your history, sure. Your background, your parents, your relationships..." He brushed back her hair. "But who you are is much bigger than just that. You know that, right?"

"I know I'm not Carly..." she whispered.

"Right," Freddie added. "But maybe you should stop thinking about who you're not, and start asking who you are? I think you might like what you see." He squeezed her hand tightly. "I know I do."

Sam stood there, her mouth hung open to dry. She didn't know how to respond. What could she say?

"Sam!" a voice called in followed by a pounding at the door. "If you're done making-out with Freddie your father and I are leaving soon!"

Sam rushed to the door, swinging it wide open. "Mom!"

"There you are," she said. "Melanie's going to be out late tonight. Think you can hold down the fort, solider?"

"I think I can manage," Sam replied.

Pam grinned as she turned to Freddie. "Private Benson!"

He straightened. "Yes, ma'am!"

"I'm putting you on Puckett duty. Make sure she doesn't slack off or spend the evening eating nothing but junk-food. If all else fails, you may resort to removing your shirt as a decoy."

Sam rolled her eyes. "That's _Gibby, _Mom."

"Is it?" She frowned. "That's disappointing."

"Alright bye!" Sam shouted, pushing her out the door.

"Fine! Fine!" Pam said, lifting her hands up in surrender. "You give a teenage girl life and then she gets a boyfriend and it's all 'see ya later, mom! Stay out as late as you want! Or better yet don't come back at all!' Honestly, the things I put up with for you. Astonishing."

"Oh shut up!" Sam shouted, jokingly back at her mother. "Go stuff your face with rice!"

"I will!" she called from downstairs.

Freddie laughed as Sam's face dusted pink. "One word and you're dead," she said, bluntly.

* * *

Sam leaned over the banister, watching her parents prepare for their outing. Freddie was beside her, watching her more than anything. Her mom was helping her dad put on a tie, straightening his jacket, worrying about her own appearance more than she should. _If I didn't know any better, _she thought to herself. _I'd say it was just like a regular family. _

"Look at her," Sam said. "I've never seen her smile like that."

Freddie nodded. "She looks happy."

Sam pulled away from the banister, shaking her head. "How can I do this, Freddie? How can I just go back and allow her to be a complete mess for the rest of her life?"

"Sam. If your old life was so terrible, why do you want to go back? Wouldn't you rather live here? Where your family is together?"

Sam sighed. "It wouldn't be fair to Carly. Or Spencer, or the fans of the show..."

"But what about you?" he asked. "What's fair to you?"

Sam chuckled. "It isn't like those TV shows, is it?" she recalled. "There, it's always obvious what the right decision is. It isn't fair. That's the problem."

"TV isn't life," he replied.

"No happy endings."

"Yeah, but at the same time..." he smiled. "There are longer, more interesting stories. Each one worth telling, even if it's in two different ways."

"Goodbye!" Sam's father called.

"Don't leave the stove on again!" Pam shouted right after. Sam waved to them as they exited the house. The door latch snapped, leaving Sam and Freddie alone.

"When I was a little girl, all I wanted was for my mom to be happy," Sam whispered. "And now that she is, I feel like I'm just going to take that away from her again. I can't do anything."

Freddie raised his eyebrows. "You could stay. Keep the world the way it is. Try to make amends with Carly. Show her the kind person you know she is. It wouldn't be hard, and it would be better than the alternative for sure."

But Sam shook her head. "I can't stay here, Freddie. It's not an 'if' thing, it's when. This isn't the world that I know. Even if it turns out that this is the one that's real and the other is fake, it doesn't matter. That's the world I have to return to."

"The world that feels most like a dream is the one that fades," he nodded. "Naturally."

She turned to him, a half-somber smile on her face. "I wanna stay, though."

Freddie rested his cheek on his hand, looking back at her. "Yeah?"

"But I'd have to drop most of the classes I'm in. Up until about a year ago, I thought gravity was just a fancy term for gravy." They both shared a laugh together and leaned back on the banister. Something was tugging at Sam's heart. "Hey...Fredward..."

"Hm?"

"I um..." she froze, her words getting caught in her throat. "I know that I'm not technically your Sam, and you're not really my dork."

Freddie chuckled. "So you've said."

"But even if that's true, I still-" Sam swallowed. "I mean I don't know how long I'm going to stay here until either I go back or things go back to normal. And when that does happen..." she cleared her throat. "We're just gonna go back to walls." Her cheeks flushed as she fiddled with her fingers on the railing. "This opportunity might not come again. The house is empty, we have space and...and time...and...so..." She felt a knot twist in her stomach as she turned to him, standing up straight. "Would you have me? Even though I'm not...you know..."

Freddie stood, running his hand along the banister as he made his way towards Sam. "Hm," he said with a smirk. "I don't know how I feel about cheating on my girlfriend. She's really important to me, you know."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Something tells me she's not gonna find out."

He slipped his hand over hers. "I love her, though."

She shrugged. "I'm not the jealous type."

"Then I guess there's nothing to lose. I've always wanted to do something dangerous. But I gotta say...I'm a little nervous."

"You'll be fine. Just close your eyes and you can't even tell the difference," Sam teased.

"I can't tell the difference even when they're open," Freddie said in a hushed tone. Sam's joking demeanor began to melt away as his words seeped into her. She gazed at him, drinking them in for the first time. Freddie took her hand off the banister, leading her back down the hall. The house was quiet save for the sound of a door creaking open and finally snapping shut.

* * *

Sam awoke to the sounds of rain splattering on her window. Her eyes fluttered open to reveal the cracked ceiling above her. She turned to her side, half elated to see Freddie still lying there, fast asleep. The lights were off, the only source of illumination came from the crack from the door and the little light that reflected off the street lamps. Despite this, she could still see him, clear as day. His hair spread over the pillow, his mouth hanging slightly open. For once in his life, Freddie Benson appeared at peace.

She leaned over him, allowing her hair to waterfall over her shoulder. A clash of thunder was heard. It didn't startle Sam, it didn't wake Freddie. Sam lowered her lips down to his temple and kissed him gently. "See ya, Benson," she whispered in his ear. Freddie twitched his nose, but didn't awaken. Sam looked out the window, the rain was beating harder than ever. It was now or never.

She snatched her baseball bat from the corner where she usually kept it and pulled on a pair of jeans, boots, a t-shirt and a jacket. She opened the door, taking one last look at the boy. Before she could convince herself to change her mind, she was down the stairs and out the door.

There was no guarantee that the old television was still out there. It was a gamble at best. However, Sam knew that the longer she stayed, the more difficult it would be to go back. She stumbled through the woods, searching every corner and clearing for the set. Her search was unsuccessful until she reached a little shack a bit of a ways away from her house. There, lying in a pile of mud and leaves, was the TV.

"I knew it!" Sam shouted, not caring who was around to hear. "You did this to me! You brought me here!" She caressed the bat with her hand, preparing to swing. "And now you're gonna take me hom-"

"Sam!" A figure appeared from under the rain.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Great."

"Sam!" it shouted again, stumbling in the dark. Sure enough, it was Freddie trudging his way through the rain, soaking wet. "What are you doing out here?"

"I found it, Freddie," Sam said matter-of-factly. "I have to go back."

Sam lifted her bat over her head but Freddie ran between her and the sparking monitor. "Are you insane? That's a metal bat!"

"It's the one I used last time!"

"You said last time you got electrocuted!"

"I did! That's the point!"

Freddie's jaw dropped. "Sam! You can't just smack random things with metal bats in the middle of a lightning storm! You could get seriously hurt!"

"Or it'll zap us back into reality!" She pointed the bat towards the television. "Now move, Benson! Before I knock your brains out!"

"Gimmie the bat, Sam!" He yelled, reaching out and trying to grab it from her. Sam lifted it over her head and then behind her. "Give me the...Sam...Sam! Give me the bat! Come on just! Let...go..." Freddie said, moving over her to try and grab it.

"Okay! Okay fine!" Sam finally shouted, handing Freddie the metal stick.

Freddie walked away from her, holding the bat in his hand. The rain flattened his hair over his face. He spit out water that hammered down over his mouth as he spoke. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Well it wouldn't be the first time!" Sam spat back, her arms crossed.

"You really think this is going to set things back to the way they supposedly were? Really? How does that make any sense?"

"It doesn't have to!"

Freddie exhaled. "We are going back inside. Right now."

"Aw, come on!"

"I know that you're just trying to regain a sense of reality, but this _isn't _the way to do it!" Freddie snapped. "You get enough volts of electricity in you, you will die!"

"I won't die if this is just a dream!"

"You really think this is a dream? All of this? Really?"

"No but...I mean..." Sam looked around. "Ugh! That's not fair!"

"I wish you would stop being so impulsive!"

"I wish you would stop nagging every little thing I do!"

"What would you rather me do? Let you hurt yourself?" Freddie groaned. "I can't do that! You know I can't do that! Why do you insist on putting yourself in these situations!"

"I'm just trying to do the right thing for once!" Sam screamed over the rush of the rain. "I'm trying to be a better person! For you and for Carly and for everyone!"

"How is killing yourself going to make you a better person?" Freddie asked. Sam was quiet. "Ugh! I don't get you! Hurting yourself doesn't make up for hurting other people, Sam!" He raised his shoulders. "Don't you see that? Didn't anyone teach you that?"

"I can't change, Freddie! I'm too screwed up to fix!"

"Do you really believe that?" he called back to her. There was a long pause. "Because I'm sick of watching you punish yourself over things you can't control! Carly isn't your responsibility! Your mother isn't your responsibility either, Sam! Jeez!" He breathed heavily, wiping the hair from his eyes. "Change isn't about punishment! It's about redemption! Don't you think I would know that better than anybody?"

"How can you stand there and just expect me to forgive myself when you can't even forgive yourself about Carly!"

Freddie lifted the bat in rage. "This is not. about. Carly!" He slammed the bat down, crashing it into the television. A surge of electricity shot through his body. In seconds, he has on the ground.

Sam stood there, stunned. "Freddie." She ran to him, picking him up in her arms. "Hey...Fredward." She shook him. "Come on, this isn't funny! Benson!" She rested his head onto her lap. "...Freddie?" She bit her lip. "No...no come on! That's not fair! You can't do this to me. Not now!" Sam lifted him up further allowing his back to rest against her shoulder. Suddenly, his eyes squeezed shut as he let out a grunt. "Oh my god," Sam whispered in relief.

Freddie opened one eye and started to sit up. "I think you guys need to take that TV to the dump." Sam rolled her eyes and threw a pile of mud in his face. She stood to her feet and let down her hand for Freddie to grab hold of.

"Let's go back," she said bluntly. Freddie simply nodded and pulled himself up with Sam's support. The rain had quieted down now, leaving the two kids soaked to the bone.

* * *

Freddie lay on the couch, stretching his back up. Sam walked over and handed him a cup with tea in it. He grinned. "You're feeling hospitable."

Sam didn't look at him. "Yeah, well..."

He took the tea and sat up. "I'm sorry I got angry at you."

"I'm sorry I tried to electrocute myself and reset everything."

Freddie chuckled. "You know, I was thinking. What if you did hit the TV and it didn't take you back home, but some other dimension. Like everything is in a time loop and you'd have to get through all of these other dimensions before you could make it back to your timeline."

Sam glared at him. "I would shoot the first person I saw." She lifted an eyebrow. "Your memories haven't changed at all, have they?"

"No. I got nothin' but a massive headache and a tear in my jeans." He sipped his tea, but it was hot and burned his tongue. "Ah! Caliente!"

"I guess trying to go back by my own time wasn't the greatest idea."

"Not really, no." He smiled down into his tea, before looking back up at Sam. "I don't even remember what I was so angry about."

"Carly."

"That's new," he said, sarcastically. "Everything just seems to come back to her, doesn't it?"

Sam nodded. "Even here."

"Sounds like it's worse from where you are."

Sam shrugged. "Some of it. Some things are different."

"Like what?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it," Sam teased. "But...your first kiss was pretty radically different."

"It was?"

"Uh huh." Sam scooted onto the couch as Freddie moved his legs to make room for her. "You wanna hear it?"

"Uh, does a proton cruiser have octagonal blast plates?" he asked, excitedly. Sam sent him an annoyed glare. "Please tell me your story," he said meekly.

"Okay so there was..." Sam smiled at the memory. "This girl. And she hated you so much that one day she put a dead fish in your locker. There was no real reason for it, I think she just wanted you to squirm. God you were so mad. You wanted to get back at her so badly so you handcuffed her to Gibby..."

"I what?" Freddie exclaimed, amused.

"Yeah."

"Aw. Poor Gibby."

"So this girl that hated your guts decided she was going to get you back. And she did. See, she knew...somehow...that you had never kissed a girl so she announced it online so that everyone knew about it. It worked, too. I don't think I've ever seen you so...down. You skipped school and stayed by yourself pretty much all week that week. So the girl started to feel bad. Really bad. She came back online and told everyone that she was wrong. And that she only said those things because she had never kissed anyone either."

"That was nice of her."

"Then later she apologized to you and...you decided to kiss. Just to prove that it wasn't a big deal and that the whole thing was really a lot of nonsense over nothing. You never talked about it again, never wanted to. But after that, you...and her...finally became friends."

He could feel his cheeks beginning to burn as he smiled. "Wow. That's actually really nice."

"So, not everything sucked back home."

"What about yours? What was your first kiss?"

Sam blushed. "Same as yours."

Freddie froze for a moment. "You kissed Carly?" Sam glared at him again, rolling her eyes until he finally made the connection. "Oh..." he laughed. "You put the dead fish in my locker."

"I do a lot of things."

Freddie shook his head. "You did all that and you still think you're a horrible human being?"

Sam grinned. "I'm working on it."

Freddie reached over to grab her hand, but some excess static shocked the two before they could make contact. They giggled, unable to keep a straight face. The jerk caused some of Freddie's tea to spill onto the blanket. "Aw man!"

Sam rolled her eyes and stood up. "I'll get a paper towel," she said, in mockingly complaining manor. She sauntered over to the kitchen and grabbed the entire roll. As she was walking back, her head started to feel light. She stopped in the archway, the world suddenly turning into a blur.

"F-Freddie..." she said breathlessly before collapsing onto the tile.

"Sam!" she heard him shout. "Sam!" The voice slowly began to leave her, distancing the closer he got.

"Freddie..."

"Sam!" the voice was higher pitched now. Sam looked up as a figure-like blob approached her. As the blob grew closer, Sam could see it more in focus. "Sam! Can you hear me?"

"...Carly?"


	10. iForge My Own Path

**iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon **

_Chapter Ten: iForge My Own Path_

Sam felt a throbbing on the top of her head. She reached down to feel the tile floor, but it was gone. Instead, her hand touched the soft cushion. The material was so familiar it gave her chills.

"Sam?" The voice called again. "Sam! Are you awake?"

"Carly?" Sam spoke weakly. The blurred figure came into focus, her face right up near Sam's own. She pushed herself up, not knowing what it was she was doing. She squinted, the light flashing brightly in her eyes.

"Oh thank god!" she shouted, wrapping her arms around Sam as tightly as she could. Sam looked around. She could see where she was now. The random artifacts hanging from the wall, the TV that was playing the food channel quietly. This was Carly's apartment. The figure pulled away to indeed reveal Carly Shay, caressing her head. "Are you okay? What happened? Do you remember?"

"I uh..." Sam sat up fully running her hand through her tangled hair. "I fell down."

"You fell?" Sam looked down at her hand. Opened and closed it. _Freddie, _she thought. When they touched the static had shocked her and spilled his tea. "I was so worried. Freddie told me what really happened and...I felt awful about the things I said to you so I went to apologize and your mom said you were outside so I went out looking for you and...oh Sam!" She said, hugging her best friend tighter.

"Carls...jeez," Sam muttered. "It was just a little lightning." She pulled her away, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

"Let's never ever fight again, okay?" she said. Sam nodded as Carly went in for another hug. In all the commotion, Sam had forgotten that she and Carly had even had an argument. What was it about again? She couldn't seem to remember. It wasn't important anymore. Carly let go and examined Sam's appearance. "Aww. Look at you. You're all covered in mud. Your hair...and your feet...weren't you wearing shoes?"

"Apparently not." Sam wiggled her toes.

"You wait here and I'm going to get you a hot towel," Carly announced making her way to the kitchen. "You're probably hungry. I'll make you something. Spencer's asleep though so we have to keep it down."

"Th-that's okay," Sam said. "You don't-"

"We have jerky."

"I want jerky!"

Carly giggled girlishly at Sam's eagerness for meat. She tossed Sam the bag of jerky. It was a relief to her that everything was going to be okay. Suddenly, the door swung open.

"Carly!" the deep voice said. Sam looked down at her bag of dried meat. "I was at the Groovy Smoothie when I got your message! Is Sam here? Is she-" Sam shoved a piece of jerky in her mouth. She couldn't look at him when his eyes finally found her. "Sam!"

"Hey Fredward," she said as calmly as she could.

"Are you okay?" Freddie began, moving towards her and leaning to her level. "What happened?"

"Sam went out in the rain and got electrocuted!" Carly said, half worried, half condescendingly.

"I'm all better now!" Sam exclaimed.

"She was unconscious for twenty minutes!" Carly said.

"Well yeah but-" Sam stopped. "Twenty minutes? But...that's impossible."

"It probably felt like seconds to her," Freddie explained. "You're not hurt are you?" He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. "I have a first aid kit if you need it."

"I don't need it, I'm fine."

"Are you sure-?"

"Yes! I'm fine! Just don't-" Her body tensed as his hand came near her, keeping her eyes married to her jerky bag. "Don't touch me."

Freddie retracted his hand. "Oh. Sorry."

Carly made her way back to the couch, putting her own hand on Freddie's shoulder. "Will you go wake up Spencer and tell him Sam's okay?"

Freddie nodded. "Yeah, sure thing." His eyes hovered on Sam for a moment before he made his way into Spencer's room.

"I'll set up the sleeping bag. Do you want it in the studio or down here? I figured since you were already down here-"

"Thanks, Carly," Sam started as she stood up. "But I think I'm just gonna go home."

Carly blinked. "Home?"

"Yeah, I should probably let me mom know I'm alive," Sam said in a joking manner. Inside, she knew that her mother in this world probably hadn't noticed she was gone. "Thanks for the jerky, though."

"At least let Spencer give you a ride back!"

"Naw," Sam shook her head. "He just woke up. I doubt he'd be very reliable."

"But it's so late. There are mean people out there."

Sam groaned, looking over towards the couch. There, lying between the pillows, was her metal baseball bat. She picked it up and swung it over her shoulder. "See. Now I have a weapon."

"But Sam..."

She looked at her honestly. "I'll text you when I get home, okay?"

Carly sighed. "At least borrow some shoes!"

Sam could hear rustling coming from the back hall where Spencer's room was. She quickly scooted out the door before Freddie could re-enter the room. She waited outside for a few seconds, holding her breath. It was official. She was back. Everything was the way it was, the way it was designed to be. She sighed, dragging the bat along with her to the elevator.

* * *

She managed to catch the bus on it's last run of the evening. The stops were many, but short. She peered out the window, watching the people pass by. She wondered what it all meant. If it was a dream, another reality, she feared she would never truly know. It was yet another secret that Sam Puckett had to keep.

_Change isn't about punishment. _

She remembered those words, the ones he had told her. She wasn't sure if he was right. Returning now to a broken life, that appeared more like a punishment than anything. What was the point of it all? To prove that her life could have been different? That the entire world didn't have to revolve around one tragic event linking to another?

_Maybe, _Freddie's voice came back as though in answer. _Instead of thinking about who you're not, you should ask who you are? _Sam slammed her head against the glass window.

_But I don't know who I am..._she thought. _I thought I knew...but now I..._

The bus pulled over to Sam's street before she could think of anything more. She went to pay the bus driver, who told her to just get off and not slug him with the baseball bat. Sam skidded the bat along the familiar concrete sidewalk. It scraped the bottom most likely waking up everyone in the neighborhood. Sam realized that should have stopped her, but it didn't.

She reached her house only to realize that she wasn't alone. There on the concrete steps of the house, was Freddie. Sam stopped, still and cold. What was he doing there? Freddie noticed Sam and waved, not moving from his spot on the stairs. "Hey."

"Dude...what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

Sam scowled, picking up her bat and walking towards him. "Carly make you follow me home?"

Freddie shook his head. "Nope. I had a little extra money so I thought I'd get you a taxi, but you were gone by the time I came back."

Sam's chest tightened. "Oh." She started to walk by him. "Well, I'm here now so...goodnight."

"Sam..." he said, warmly. "I have the meter running. In case you decide you want to go back with me."

Sam had reached the door at this point. Freddie stood, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket. "Freddie I can't-"

The door opened widely. Pam stood in the doorway, leaning on the rim. She had a chicken bone in her mouth. "Well, look who finally decided to fly back home." She lifted an eyebrow. "Where ya been?" Between her legs, the cat Frothy sprinted out past Freddie and Sam and into the lawn. It hissed, looking back at the house. "Mangy thing," Pam said under her breath.

"I was just at Carly's."

"Oh, why am I not surprised?" Pam said. "And hey look, you brought your little nerdy friend."

"H-hello Mrs. Puckett," Freddie said nervously.

"Sam," Pam began. "You gotta go in and clean that god-forsaken bathroom. There is glass everywhere from where you broke that mirror." She leaned over to Freddie. "Normally I wouldn't mind but it's like, man! What we gotta put up with, right Benson?" She gripped Sam's arm tightly. "You better be in here in two minutes or I will drag you in." She smiled at Freddie. "Goodnight!" With that, she let go of Sam and forcibly shut the door.

Sam turned back to Freddie. "I gotta go." She opened the door, but before she could walk through it, Freddie reached for the handle, slamming it shut. "Dude! What the chiz?"

"You broke a mirror?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"Did you?"

Sam groaned. "Yes! My mom wants to start a stained glass window business! Now get out!" she shouted. She reached back for the door handle and opened it, but Freddie shut it again.

"I thought we were done with this. You can't lie to me, Sam. I know when you're not telling me the truth. You may be able to fool Carly with this stuff, but you can't fool me. So tell me what's going on."

Sam inhaled in frustration. "Okay...I might have gotten angry and thrown my makeup at the mirror and it may have shattered all over the floor. But-" she leaned in closer. "She took my mascara and flung it at the wall! And...tried to paint her face with my foundation!"

Freddie looked down. "I see." There was a long silence before he spoke again. "Sam..." he looked up. Sam cast down her eyes. "Hey. Sam. Look at me for a sec." Sam forced her gaze to meet with his. His eyes were gentle, yet filled with concern. "Let me take you back to Carly's."

Sam huffed. "I don't want to go back to Carly's."

"Then..." he bit his lip. "Then you can come stay with me. Or we can go somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere you want. Just please..." He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into him closer. "Please don't go back in there."

Sam took a deep breath. She wanted to leave. She wanted to hop in that taxi and go as far away from that house as possible. Just him and her, no Carly, no parents, no walls...but she knew that couldn't happen. "If I leave now it'll just make things worse," she told him.

Freddie lifted his eyebrows, lowering his hands from her shoulders. "You could just...not come back."

Sam shook her head. "I tried that once. It didn't work."

"But-"

"Look," Sam said. "She's trying. So, the least I can do is try too. And besides you don't want me in your house. I'm a bulldozer," she said, playfully recalling the adjective Mrs. Benson had used to describe her.

Freddie laughed. "You're not a bulldozer," he said. "...All the time."

She joined in, lightly chuckling to herself. There was another pause before: "I should go."

Freddie nodded. "Okay." He started to walk down the steps, leaping over one of them so he'd land with both feet on the sidewalk. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sam shone a half-grin. "See ya." Freddie was halfway down the sidewalk as Sam turned away from the door. "And thank you," she called back. Freddie turned around to meet her gaze. "For showin' up here. It made me feel less...rotten."

"Well," Freddie added. "People don't generally care about rotten people." Sam's heart skipped as he turned back around, walking towards the yellow taxi parked across the street. "Goodnight, Sam."

"Night Fred-" she started, but something stopped her. Freddie turned to look behind him once more, knowing she had stopped. She looked at him and grinned. "Night, Freddie."

She leaned against the doorframe, as she often did, her hair picking up in the wind. It was calmer now, the storm passed. Soon it would rain again, but for now the air only hung heavy with dark clouds. As she watched him leave, a feeling of peace and serenity came over her.

"People don't care about rotten people, huh?" she snickered. "I'll try not to read into that too much."

She picked up her baseball bat and swung it over her shoulder. This time, she was prepared. Whether it was a learned behavior, or inside her all along. It didn't matter. Sam was ready to start figuring it all out. She wasn't scared of looking at her reflection anymore. There was no longer a fear of what she might find. In fact, one might say that she was actually looking forward to it.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading my story. Please feel free to comment as you wish. **


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